Basotho Nation

About the only souvenir to be found in this country is a Basotho hat. The Basotho hat gets it shape from this mountain:

Man Down

We lost the first volunteer from our training class today. She decided to early terminate (ET) her service because she could not take another day witnessing corporal punishment in this country. I understand where she is coming from; watching students get beat day after day wears on you! I am sad to report how desensitized I have become to an issue that truly needs addressing. Teachers beat, children cry, and I move on. I hate it. We all do.

It definitely caught me off guard. No one saw it coming. I was not close to her at all, but we came here together to help and learn from the people of Lesotho. We spent two and a half months training together in the cage before departing for two and a half months in isolation at our sites. Together or apart we learned from each other, we encourage each other, and we lean on one another. Peace Corp has introduced me to people I normally would not interact with or have ever encountered had I stayed in America. Each one of us has our own story and different reasons for wanting to serve, however, the fact that we are Peace Corp Volunteers unites us. Losing a member of your team is tough! I wish her the best on her next endeavor!

Best.Day.Ever.

Everyone deserves a really good day after an exhausting week. I typed yesterdays post in the earlier hours of the morning before I knew what my future held. After school I was heading toward closest boy volunteers hut to steal some tomatoes from his incredible garden. A car pulled over next too me and the driver informed me he heard an announcement on the radio informing Basotho who know Peace Corps volunteers to have them email or call the headquarters in Maseru. I did not know him but he stopped anyways to inquire. We all know I do not have a phone so he picked me up and took me to his house where he let me use his personal (quite expensive) internet for free. I realized I did not have an email for PC so I read an email from K.F.A. and called it a session. No questions asked. There is something to said about the generosity of the people here! Five minutes of internet and we could call it a good day there.

We got to talking and he told me he was on his way to Maseru. I told him I was going on Sunday. He offered me a ride, if I wanted to go two days early. Duh! I was strictly informed not to arrive before Sunday but for mental health reasons I decided it was alright to hop in. He packed his bags. We went to pick up his friend, she packed her bags. Then we drove to my hut so I could pack my bags. I had not packed at all for a now 19 day trip. I threw some clothes in a bag, grabbed my toothbrush, found my passport and we were off. A school backpack for 19 days of travel. Efficient. One day in and the only things I know I forgot are my swim suit and tax papers. I will probably really miss the swim suit when I am on the beach in Durbin, and the tax forms will now continue to glare at me waiting to be filled out when I return. Those dishes I have was too fed up to wash this week are going to be nasty, the waste water is going to have accumulated its own new breed of insects, and the mice are going to have a blast with the trash pile I did not burn. We will cross these bridges when they come.

Reason number two for taking the ride down two days early: physical health. In my recent public transportation stories I have left out all the vomiting incidences. Lying across a student vomiting out the window or almost getting left by the bus after finding a private place to relieve myself. I did not inform you because it is not really a big deal. Get carsick. Vomit. Reach destination. Feel better. This happens quite often in America too. I guess it is escalated by speed at which drivers feel it is appropriate to drive on the winding mountainous dirt roads. I thought private transport would be an exception to this. Nope, it’s not. But you never know until you try! I made quite the impression on my new friends. Those of you shouting at me to take medicine, you would be proud. I have. The off-brand Dramamine the PC provides does not work. Dramamine has never failed me in America, I wonder if it has the power to tackle Lesotho?

When we weren’t singing bible school songs at the top of our lungs we questioned each other with the run-down of getting to know you questions. What is you favorite Basotho food? What do you do for fun? Who is your favorite singer? Where do you go to church? How long will you be in Lesotho? Where are you from? I learned a lot about both my new friends. I even managed to lock down FREE accommodations in Cape Town, South Africa for Christmas. The girl even let me put my sim card into her phone to send a few frantic texts to find refuge in Maseru (out of sight of PC). Their English was pretty phenomenal and even though they are both trying to get out of Thaba Tseka I will enjoy their company as long as they are around. I landed at the home of a 60 year old volunteer. Minus the fact she smoked like a chimney and enjoys the taste of a cold beer at the end of the day, I felt like I was hanging out with grams! So far she has been a hoot!

Just Keep Trying. Just Keep Trying.

This was a really long and at times rough week. I can’t point my finger on why exactly that was the case. After my miserable second week at site and lots of negative posting I am trying my best not to report on bad days (which usually turn into weeks) for several reasons. Thankfully, this week was nothing in comparison to that week. I am happy, healthy, and safe here. In my opinion, these are the most important things in life (no matter where you live) and those bases are covered. There is so so so much good I do not want to pound away typing all my complaints. I am trying to keep those on this continent and more importantly in perspective. I am determined! I know I will suck it up ad bad days will pass.

Possibility Number One: Teaching is a full time job and overwhelming at times. I leave for school at seven. When I make it to school I slave away preparing lessons, marking papers, and teaching classes. At four I either stay after school for my newly founded environmental club or to coach the soccer team (and as of this week the track team). I get home at six and eat. One of my four students shows up for tutoring at 6:15 PM. The schedule leaves time for two students a night, one hour each, Monday through Thursday. And when there is not teaching, tutoring, coaching, and club leading I am attending meetings, sporting events, and accompanying the school on field trips. Before stepping foot in this country I knew I was a workaholic. Despite learning there is more to life than slave driving yourself upon arriving, knowing and doing are totally different things. I will find a middle ground or I will be on a plane ride to reality. And that simply does not sound like fun AT ALL.

Sunday, I am heading to Maseru for phase three (the final phase!!!) of training where I will learn how to write grants, start working on my school library, and gain knowledge to be able to start assisting at the clinic. Translation: more work, more responsible. If thinking about this stresses me out I have issues. I need to decide what is important to me and what I find to be the most sustainable. I already feel like I am stretched too tin consequently no one is getting my full attention.

Possibility Number Two: It is time for a break. I mentioned Sunday I am peacing out of Thaba Tseka for 17 days split between 12 days of training in Maseru followed by five blissful days in Durbin, South Africa. As fond as I am of my district, my home, my family, and my adorable pups maybe some time away will be nice. I feel burnt out at the end of the day and especially at the weeks end. I am going to be able to reconnect with the other volunteers in my class and exchange stories. There will be access to four computers (divided by 29 volunteers) with internet. Bliss. Most of all I am looking forward to returning to Thaba Tseka refreshed, inspired, and more motivated than ever.

Possibility Number Three: March Madness. Those first two possibilities were pretty good cover-ups for what I know if bothering me the most. I am homesick for sports. Most volunteers struggled through Thanksgiving and Christmas. Those days were not the easiest, but I am feeling it now. Each minor challenge this week was escalated by the fact that I could not help but think about how I would spend my time these next two weeks if only I was in America. I would study the brackets, watch the games, and then talk them out with C.D.H. or M.L. I adore the drama, the build-up, the excitement, and entertainment of March Madness. I have officially been gone long enough to miss an entire season of my greatest love, basketball. And it won’t be just this season. I will have to go through this all again next year, more armed and prepared, of course. The best (or worst when you are far away) part about sports is the day of the national championship game the Braves open their season at home. Some people live day-to-day, some live for the holidays, some live by a schedule. I live sports season to sports season. It never ends!

I did get to fill out a bracket. More correctly, I got to make picks for a bracket for my dad to fill out for me. The internet here is ridiculously slow, even more unreliable, and too finicky for my patience. It would let me view a bracket but not fill it out. It will let me upload my blog entries but not the pictures. It will let me get on facebook but not reliably respond to emails. I am allowed access to my gmail account but not my yahoo. It will not let me go to any website that might provide insight to the world (of news and sports), meaning no CNN or ESPN. Who knew how much data all the pages I view on the internet required? And how little capacity Lesotho has!

Still Standing

Purposely omitted from my description of the track meet was the stoning event that took place between my high school and the near by high school (after my high school kept whippin’ up on them). In all honesty I could not tell one school from the next therefore I have no idea who technically won (the track meet or the stoning). I realize stoning people at your track meet (more importantly being stoned) makes you and the track meet even more hardcore, but hurting others isn’t a way to earn yourself into my hardcore record books. My students have been pelting dogs and birds with stones since they could walk. They are accurate and have a tremendous amount of power, especially when aiming at much slower, larger targets. After a week of talking about the “event” (as we call it at school) I can’t go without filling you in.

The stoning officially comes to an end today. How was this conclusion reached? Standing up, that is for sure. The meeting begun with cultural song and prayer, followed by introductions (all the teachers at my high school and the rival high school, both principals, the equivalent of a district superintendent, the police chief, and two other police officers), and an apology to me that this meeting would be conducted in Sesotho to make sure all points were clear. Ho-lo kee-lae! (It’s okay!) Before the Sesotho started the superintendent told us that is was our responsibility as teachers “to save these children from their animalistic ways.” Insert unnoticeable laugh here. The discussion was off. One hour in I decide it is okay to pull out my book, two hours in I decided it was okay to use the bathroom, three hours in I decided it was okay to write a letter, four hours I decided it was okay to take a five minute walk. Four hours AND forty-two minutes later the verdict: stoning will not be tolerated anywhere anymore. I have no idea what was said during the meeting. I’ll ask tomorrow. It is amazing how much you can learn from observing though. In the beginning it was rival high school standing on one side and my high school on the other (eying each other down, putting our game faces on, the site could have been easily mistakable for pre-battle). I laughed when others were laughing, and I looked up when select words were spoken in English. The best part of the meeting was the closure. Post battle we were all holding hands in one big circle, rotating my high school, rival school, my high school, rival school. Touching. As we all held hands a teacher from the rival high school made an analogy to the coronary artery. He said (in ENGLISH!!!), “holding hands in one circle with no ends symbolizes the coronary artery. The coronary artery supplies the heart and if there is a break in the coronary artery the heart can’t beat.” I could not have put it better myself. Effort was noted. This quote was followed by a singing of kumbiya or a more local anthem (sung in English!!!): “If you and I believe, Africa will be saved. The Holy Spirit will come down and Africa will be saved.” Repeat three times.

Test 2 Frustrations

My first test frustrations dealt with my math classes. This was my second test in my science class, and I think my questions and the answers I received will be enough to suffice. I also included the number of students who wrote the answer (exactly as written here), my class has 62 students total.
Question: Name two ways to avoid AIDS.
Answer: We should protect our hands when helping a blinding person and not using one eraser blade. (11 students)
Commentary: (Translation: blinding equals bleeding and eraser equals razor!) I gave credit for this(???). We talked about AIDS for four periods spanning 160 minutes. AIDS is predicted to kill everyone in Lesotho by 2045. D-e-p-r-e-s-s-i-n-g! There is denial, lack of education, and the cultural right to promiscuity.
Question: Name the three body regions of the insect.
Answer one: Butterfly, Bee, Housefly (32 students)
Commentary one: I have NOT mentioned butterflies OR bees in class. Houseflies were discussed as an example of a vector for disease! I spent 40 minutes drawing, discussing, and lecturing about the body regions of insects. We colored insects and labeled the parts.
Answer two: Head, UPdomen, ________ (six students),
Commentary Two: These six students were closer to the four who actually got it right. The answer I was looking for was head, abdomen (code for updomen), and thorax. What is the point of learning English if you do not understand what the words mean?
Question: Name two of the seven characteristics of life.
Answer: die, evaporation (26 students)
Commentary: I guess I drink far to much water to experience evaporation.
Question: What is a conifer?
Answer: A conifer is an animal that eat both plant and meat. (16 students)
Commentary: That would be a omnivore, a topic we have not broached.
Question: What FOOD group is the main source of energy?
Answer: The sun (41 students)
Commentary: What does the sun taste like? Remember that beautiful nutrition lesson plan that took me so long to cover. Point.less.
Question: Name two of the five pathogens.
Answer: Scavengers and Prey
Commentary: No comment
Question: What group of arthropods live in water?
Answer: grab
Commentary: (Translation: grab equals crab)! Much to my dismay I also gave credit for this. The answer was crustaceans and not a single person got this right. I figured a “grab” was a type of crustacean so this deserved full marks.

Shocking, I could not go without my commentary being voiced. After this test I learned ALL 62 of the B3 students are repeaters. They are technically in their third year of high school explaining why their English is significantly better(!!!) than my eight grade classes. Despite my attempts at lecturing, classwork, homework, student presentations, outside activities they still look and claim to be bored in class. Can’t you tell, they have already “learned” the material? It does not help that I am adamantly opposed (slash not allowed) to beat so they have no problem chatting away and throwing paper planes in class.

I love surviving here. Think about it. How cool is it that I get to spend two plus years living in a country the postal workers do not even know about (with scenery in the picture above)? I am living in “a spec on the map” (according to my host mother). Although I would argue aren’t we all. What makes your spec better than mine, Moe’s excluded? Work is tough. As soon as I consider myself to be making progress all of my effort is blown away, by I this case, a test. There is no educational foundation, students do not understand concepts (they want to memorize without studying), their English is atrocious, and I feel less than supported. No one told me if would be easy. I did not know that meant it would be worthless.

Class Pictures

My school from the top of the hill my house sits on, zoomed in 24 times:

I wanted to take pictures of all my classes one to show you three things:
1. How humongous each class is. 2. To better explain the sweet location of my school, and 3. So you could check out their rocking awesome uniforms. In addition to what I wanted to show you I gave each class the option of choosing where they wanted to be photographed. A2 wanted to show you the Lesotho flag, A3 wanted to show you the river valley down the mountain from our school, and B3 wanted to show you how the teachers live. The few B3 boys also wanted to show you the school donkey.

A2 (one of my eight grade math classes): This class definitely wins the award for trying the hardest each and every day. They always do their “level best” (which I assume means very best)! They are constantly begging me to assign them more homework. Strange, yet refreshing… students that come to school because they want to learn (or because otherwise they might die of boredom). If we could get the basic foundation America students have and the effort of the Basotho students I imagine we (the United States) could rival some of those other developed nations. They prefer to work individually to groups, a movement I am completely opposed to (but since when does my opinion matter?). Call me lazy. I do not feel the need to defend myself but I am going to anyways. I will say it 10,000 times: There are 66 of them and only ONE of me. If only there were more me (plural, can me be plural?). In a classroom where you can hardly move down the isles it is a lot easier to reach 11 groups of six. I realize I told you never to trust me but take my word on this and sending mail. This goes without mentioning, I have about ten students in this class that “get it” so it really helps them when they work in groups and explain it to their classmates. I can say it four different ways and work 99 problems on the board but sometimes it is just better to have a peer explain it. Not to mention their English is not great so a lot of what I say (despite clearly writing it on the board) goes in one ear and out the other. In many ways this place really is no different from America, most of my education went in one ear and out the other (which I realized the other day when I could remember how to draw an Iodine ion on the board properly showing all electrons).
A3 (another eight grade math class): This is my favorite class by a landslide. They are hysterical, an absolute riot. If it were not for them I probably would have quit teaching long ago. We have bonded. We get each other. We know how to make it work without making either parties life miserable. I need them to show my other two classes how to have fun while learning.
B3 (my ninth grade science class): This class brings me down to new lows, each day worse than the day before. Most of what I need to say about them can be explained in the post titled “Test 2 Frustrations.” I am sad to inform you picture day was also “hair check” day, which hit the B3s hard. Half of this class was sent home from school because their hair was too long. Two millimeters of hair is two millimeters too much. Out of about 550 students at the school slightly over 100 were sent home. From the pool of 100 there were 30 from the B3 class. My other source of relief (besides A3) is knowing the B3s are not just trouble for me!

Track Meet

Saturday I went to the district track meet with my school where the biggest lesson I learned is that I am not hardcore. Being hardcore has been my number one goal most of my life and Saturday all those dreams were shattered. I did not even know my school had a “track team” until the day before the district finals. You guessed it, that means no practice. The debatably 400 meter track had two mild inclines and was dirt smeared with shards of glass. My students ran barefoot! The girls ran in skirts with no sports bras. They were not allowed to eat or drink water until after they finished ALL their events because it makes you run faster. Learn something new everyday. Better than that, they each had to eat ONE TABLESPOON of SALT because as it was explained “it keeps the water in you.” Why yes, salt does make you retain water… but that is NOT a good thing. Each student ran multiple events, meaning the distance runners ran the 800, 1600, 3200, and 5000 meters all in the SAME day. That is six and a half miles of racing for those less familiar with track lingo or wiling to do the conversions. And some of these events are back to back, organization is at it finest in this country. Probably the funniest part of the whole event is the runners walk off the track after the first three runners cross the finish line. It’s hysterical! Quit if you are not the best (or top three), another fabulous lesson learned. For those keeping tabs, you’re right, technically very few actually finish all the events. Regardless they are still hardcore in my mind.
Sold, another project for the to-do list! Now that I know my school has a “track team” or students interested in running I am totally on board. At next years district meet we are going to rock, or at least have some new tips for healthier, faster running. Running was a huge part of my high school experience. In fact, it was the only thing that made high school bearable. Perhaps, I can share my joy for running and high school sports with my students. For selfish reasons it will also allow me to get some running done. I have been unable to run around my hut because all the Basotho throw rocks at me. They are not trying to be vicious and they don’t try to actually hit me (although I have been pelted a few times). They simply are trying to get my attention. Remember that whole greet everyone well it is really hard to get a run in when you are stopping every 100 meters to greet someone. Back to my new track team, To get me started, I know of this great organization in Colorado who collects old running shoes. I am not sure what they do with them, but I think donating them to Lesotho is a good idea. As soon as I find a way to make this donation sustainable I am contacting them (shouldn’t be a challenge with all my access to phones and internet). I want them to do well not only next year but also they year after and the year after that and forever after I am gone.

Care Package Ideas

Do not judge me:

• Chocolate (especially Milk Duds, 100 Grand Bars, and M&Ms)
• Chocolate chips
• Trail Mix
• Granola bars
• DRY ROASTED almonds
• Sunflower seeds (without shells, unfortunately Lesotho is not a baseball park)
• Taco Seasoning
• Pop Tarts (any flavor)
• Unhealthy cereal (Reese's Puffs, Coco Puffs)
• Black Beans
• Kraft Mac and Cheese
• Velvetta Cheese
• Kraft Parmesan Cheese
• Rainbow Chip Icing
• Muffin and brownie mixes
• Real coffee (what is this country doing to me?)
• Scented Candles (good smelling)
• Grill lighters
• AA and AAA batteries (DO NOT DECLARE these)
• V5 Pilot Pens (in fun colors)
• Regular pens, pencils, and erasers for my students
• Magazines (Time, Newsweek, The New Yorker, People, Runners World, Sports Illustrated)
• News articles (!!!!)
• Febreeze
• Good sunscreen (Neutrogena)
• Burts Beeswax Chapstick
• A People Puzzle Crossword (or EASY crossword book) book

Have at it! Of course, anything you send will be welcomed in my home. Definitely use flat rate boxes or padded envelopes. I can receive packages at either address. I hear packages to Thaba Tseka do not have to clear customs in Maseru (meaning less theft!), however, I had not had any proof yet. My mom has had luck with both her packages to the Maseru! Thanks for sending packages.

Technology Troubles

Technology has never really been my thing. Luckily, I have always had someone at my fingertips to help me out. That is NOT the case in Lesotho. First the iPod died on the plane ride over here. Major devastation and definitely not the foot I wanted to get started off on. After two months, generous parents, and an American visiting another PCV the iPod was replaced. Then it was the phone, in part one and two. Part one of the phone was the battery. I told you the little boy cast a magic spell on it for the price of a dark dove chocolate square. Miraculously, it was fixed. Phone part two: no service. Not in my house, not at school, not down by the river. Nowhere. Except everyone else has service? The only explanation I can see is the phone. After two more months of waiting (May 6th) and the hefty price of 500 Rand I will have a new phone in my hand. Patience, my friends. NOW it is my computer cord. That is what third world electricity and no surge protectors will do. I plugged my computer into the wall and BAM, the cord was shot. Just like that in the blink of my eye. I am incredibly thankful it was only the cord and NOT the computer. I guess that mini surge protector on my cord works. Materials are all replaceable, in time and with money. Until then the blogs are going to be fewer and farther between!

If the camera goes next then life might not be worth living. I can't take it. This technology is giving me a headache.

IMPORTANT PACKAGE NEWS ALERT:

I know, I know, you hate being told what to do. You like to try things out for yourself, but in this case I might know best. I ask you to put stubbornness aside take my advice. I realize I am considerably younger than those with enough money to spend on packages, I have a lot less worldly wisdom, and my experiences are not as grand as yours.

However, my recent experiences might be enough to convince you:

Case 1: My dear friend J.M.S. sent a package at Christmas full of candy that never arrived. As much as I would kill for some candy, we both decided we hope whoever took it enjoyed it.

Case 2: Today I got a package from my grandparents. I opened it up to find a Russell Stovers heart. Oh boy, this is exciting! When I opened up the heart six candies were missing. Now I realize my grandparents are old, but even at their age I would be really surprised if they ate six and sent the rest. The package had definitely been opened and was then quite obviously stapled back together… which only leaves to me assume the postal workers enjoy a few pieces and decided to wrap it up and send the rest. I am not sure why they did not finish it off. I am even more confused as to why they left the chocolate covered caramel for me. Again, I hope they enjoyed what they devoured.

You can't make this stuff up. This is third world Africa. Please, please, please label your care packages EDUCATIONAL MATERIAL (pens, pencils, paper, books) and smear it with biblical phrases (Jesus loves you, God is watching, Jesus saves).

Reflections

Today has been four months since I left home. I can’t believe it. The time is flying by. There are slow days and bad days but mostly there are good days. I have accumulated an abundance of patience. I am more flexible than I ever thought possible. My sense of humor is grand and growing. Waiting hours for public transportation, three weeks for a letters, or six weeks for the internet still amazes me but stopped bothering me long ago. These things seem normal now and always provide a good laugh. I have really slowed my life down and have begun embracing the finer things in life: a conversation with the neighbor, the seasonality of foods, or the spectacular stars.

I came here as a full-blown idealist and am becoming more of a realist with each passing day. I wanted to implement change and serve as an aid to this country (especially my students and school). Instead I find myself in the learners seat. The Basotho have taught me more in four months than I ever thought possible. They have taught me to how far a small act of kindness (like greeting a total stranger and inquiring about their day) can go. I am learning to take time for others. There is nothing more important than taking time for others. I am learning how little we need to live and how to use resources minimally (and to think I thought I was in the US). They have taught me how to make bread. I am learning how to grow my own food and the importance of rain. I have been taught how to wash my clothes by hand. I am learning a new language, along with an abundance about this country and culture. I have learned how to embrace disconnectedness and exotic surroundings. The list goes on. I can only dream I am going to teach me a quarter of what they have already taught me.

I have grown to truly respect and appreciate relationships. I could not do this without your continued support back home or without my new friends here (Basotho and American). You do not have to be best friends with everyone you meet, but it is really good to grow and share ideas with other people, especially those so different from yourself. It promotes peace (perhaps, that is how this organization got its name) and understanding. We all have bad days. It is part of life. I am quite hard on myself, to the point I annoy myself. Connecting with new people from this country has made me realize part of life is about letting go and moving on, talking things out, and sharing ideas. It helps us problem solve. Make sure your voice is heard, but listens to others as well.

I feel like I am still integrating into the community, but I feel completely integrated into my family. Having an incredible host family has made the experience so far (and I am sure will continue) amazing. I would be no where without their constant love, help, advice, encouragement, and support. I especially value my relationship with middle sister. I look forward to the days end so we can hang out. I help her in math, science, business education and she helps me pull carrots from the garden or wash the sweat stains from my clothes. I am still not fond of teaching, but I really enjoy the one-on-one tutoring I have set up with middle sister, brother, and two other students at school. I can already tell, these four especially, are getting better at English (speaking and understanding).

My classes are going much more smoothly. I still feel really limited by the size of my classes (71, 66, and 62 students) and my students lack of understanding of the English language. However, I am beginning to understand the school system a little better each day. The early frustrations have been channeled into laughs. My student and I are now able to laugh together and continue to learn more about each other. I wish we could just hang out together because they are hysterical! We are now realizing each others goals and expectations, and even learning a little bit of DRY math. As much as I want to reach out to each one of my students I realize this is unrealistic. I have slowed down quite a bit and have started providing tons more examples, but I had to find a middle ground. This week I think I found it. I am sure it will need some tweaking. For now, we call this p-r-o-g-r-e-s-s! I have not really connected with many of the teachers at school as I find myself quite busy during the day. There are a few I rely on to answer questions, the rest just exist. I am not giving up on them just yet.

The biggest challenge is definitely going to be helping grant all my schools wishes when there is absolutely no money ANYWHERE, no space, minimal time, and so much that needs to be done. I am taking it one day/project at a time. I have also been able to set boundaries recently, meaning no projects without student or staff support. The environmental club has been started, and the pen pal system seems to be underway. When I get back from Easter break I am going to start the lifeskills club and hopefully get more involved in sports. On top of teaching and these activities, I am going to be sponsoring five students at my school, organizing/cleaning up space for a library, and teaching the students how to fundraise for their kitchen.

The technology situation has been more than a nightmare. Oh well. I have established a daily routine for chores and activities. Hopefully May 6th when I get my new phone I will have more regular phone calls from back home and I will even be able to BLUETOOTH internet to my computer from my phone. How crazy is that? It will be slow, but AWESOME. Seems worth the wait, what is 57 more days (not that I am counting). What is 57 days when you have 23 months?

I give myself a B.

Sound Advice

My freshman science class does not like to listen or learn. I refuse to beat them so they are smart enough to realize there are very few consequences for their actions. How do you manage a class of 62 students ranging in age from 14 to 36? I finally got fed up with them today. The assignment: Write half a page on why you think it is okay to disrespect your teacher and classmates and how you are going to change your behavior so everyone has a fair chance to teach and learn.

One students response (exactly like it was written, with my commentary in italics):

Madame, I am very sorry to tell you that you handwriting is not good (there is a first time for everything), so you should try to write clear words (sometimes it is as easy a dotting the i’s, problem solved). And I do not hear some words when you are calling them (well, that is because YOU are talking). That is not to say I am making noise in the class no, some are making noise not all of us (I guess placing blame on others is a global trend). I did not understand some of topics you did with us because when you are teaching you are making noise (I am not sure how I am supposed to teach without making noise), so “PLEASE” try do explain again. My dear teacher (such a charmer). You should not write like you write poems (goodbye bullets), make long sentences (hello even slower motion). (I definitely appreciate the advice, unfortunately this was DEFINITELY NOT the assignment. Whenever students do not want to do my assignments, they make up their own. This way science, but especially in math. They change fractions to whole numbers, negative numbers to positive one, and division signs to multiplication. Makes grading a real blast!)

Classic.

Field Trip Fiasco

The pounding on my door woke me up at 2:00 AM. Thank goodness because I am not sure the six alarms I had set were going to cut it. By 2:30 AM we (middle sister and I) were riding IN A CAR to school. The walk takes 45 minutes, the drive takes 20. Yes, the roads are that bad. I am not sure why I bothered being punctual, probably has to do with the fact I am an American. When I showed up there were two kombis (vans), we needed ten to leave. By 3:53 AM we were cruising, taking bathroom breaks galore. At 7:00 AM the caravan of ten kombis halted, kombi “No Fear” lost a wheel. All the kombis in this country have hysterical names. After watching nine bo-ntate (grown men) struggle for 45 minutes to change a tire I stepped in. I realize this was a radical move. I am a woman. I changed that tire and we were on our way. You’re shocked? I was too. Who knew I could change a tire? I didn’t, but a little determination goes a long way.

Back on the road at 8:00 AM with a tremendous amount of additional bathroom breaks. Surely we are getting close I thought to myself at 11:30 AM as we sat and waited and sat and waited on the side of the road for kombi “Haho Tatoe” who got lodged into the dirt “road” going down a steep rocky descent. This time the bo-ntate strategically placed several rocks allowing the “Haho Tatoe” to gas itself out of the ditch. Watching this process occur was truly remarkable.
Rocking and rolling at 12:15 PM and safely at our destination at 1:00 PM. I immediately jump out of the kombi and start examining my surroundings. My first observation: all my students are frozen in position in the kombis. Apparently they were too tired to move. I convinced them we did not drive all that way for nothing. We walked down to the “caves” where I proceeded to take 150 individual pictures of my students. Bringing a camera out in public, mistake number 802 I have made in Lesotho. I spent the entire time photographing them and no time looking at the “caves” or the incredible surroundings. And when I thought I was done, my teachers wanted all of their pictures taken… individually.


A camera battery later the teachers (myself guiltily included) were scaling (in the kombis) up the same mountain “HaHo Tatoe” got lodged in coming down. My students were forced to climb up the mountain, apparently they are the reason we got stuck in the first place. After the students finished their hour climb straight up we were movin’ and grovin’ towards our final destination, my bed. Exactly an hour later kombi “More Fire” was coincidently/ironically (R.D.S. I know this is pet peeve #46 but I am not sure which one I am supposed to use, circle the proper word choice now) on fire. We pull over, they evacuate the vehicle, and the front seats are lifted to reveal a burning engine. Smoke fills the air, students disperse in panic, I laugh, the driver cries. There is nothing we can do but practice our patience. FOUR HOURS later we are on the road, kombi “More Fire” is left behind. Now, our kombis meant for 16 passengers are stuffed with 21 passengers. Oh comfort! FOUR MINUTES later we see a KFC and my teachers decide it would be appropriate to take all 150 plus students in. My students had never been to the capital of their country. The concept and taste of KFC was simply mind-boggling.
It is now about 10:36 PM and everyone is loaded back up and we are on the road for approximately two minutes when the driver decides we need petrol, a brief (when compared to other events of the day) 25 minute stop. Now that is shortly after 11:00 PM we are on the road. We chug up and up and up some more. I live way up in the mountains. We do not stop to go to the bathroom; we simply drive UNTIL 3:30 AM when we see a truck jack-knifed into the guardrail preventing vehicles from flying off the mountain. I am still wide-awake! I have a student head asleep on each of my shoulders and another head in my lap. Both the driver and passenger were okay, but their truck definitely was not. The picture shows the truck after we removed it from the guardrail. Since the Basotho are such incredible people all nine kombis stop and help dislodge the truck from the guardrail. Picture 16 people bouncing this truck with all their might until they can pry it loose. The whole process took an hour. Nonstop fascination, pictures (you will never see) galore! We arrive safely at school at 5:30 AM at which point I reunite with my sister for our 45 minute journey home. I am home for approximately 30 minutes when a few volunteers knock on my door, ready for the hike we had been planning for weeks. Sleep or hike? I think you all know what I choose, and it does not require a pillow.
This day does not sound like a blast to you, and it wasn’t exactly a blast for me either. But if you asked me to do it over again, I would say yes in a heartbeat. I became closer to several of my students and even better I got to see my students act like kids—hanging out of the kombi windows, screaming/singing/chanting at the top of their lungs, and laughing with their friends. The way my students act at school I often times feel like I am a military instructor. It was simply refreshing to seem them have fun. The days events were so absurd you have to laugh, otherwise you might cry. In America the amount of time we spent in the car is equal to that of a trip from Clemson, SC to Baltimore, MD and back. Instead we never left a country the size of the state MD. This is Lesotho public transportation. If you do not believe me, come visit and see for yourself.

Connectivity, what is that?

I made it six weeks without internet. It is strange to think back four short months ago when internet was a daily routine. Checking my email was something I did without thinking about it. Googling things I wanted to know more about was part of the norm. Being informed on world news and sports was all part of living in America. Even if you wanted to isolate yourself, most American probably know there was an earthquake in Haiti or that New Orleans won the Superbowl. I found these things out long after the fact. It's part of being so far away and it is part of the experience. Life here is so simple and very refreshing. I definitely wish I could update my blog more and I really, really, REALLY miss sports. If I make it through March Madness without scores at my fingertips, I can make it through ANYTHING. As pathetic as that sounds, please try to put in in perspective. Imagine your favorite thing being completely taken away for over two years (along with your family, friends, and all other things your parts of life that seem normal). Do you know how much football, basketball, and baseball I am going to miss? Ridiculous and rough!

I am pleased to report I am doing quite well. I feel well integrated with my community. I really enjoy spending time with the volunteers in my district. My cooking is getting better (or I am eating better by spending time with other volunteers). I suggest you read the posts in order of when they were written. I truly hope you enjoy the most recent 18 chapters on my life I uploaded for you this morning. It’s funny to go back and read them and see how much has already changed in this past month. My typical day is nothing like that it was around January 25^th. I got another dose of mail on the 9^th of February, which as always was fantastic. My original mail post was written on the 2^nd and I decided against updating it. The story continues....

Happy, healthy, and safe.

Gearing Up

Here I sit, it’s 5PM and in 9.5 hours I am leaving for a field trip with my school.
Last Thursday in a staff meeting I was asked if I would like to accompany the school on a field trip. “Sure, when?” Their response, “FriDAY.” All I know about the field trip is what time we are supposedly leaving and coming home and the name of where we are going (no idea how far away it is or where it is actually located). Leaving at 3AM is technically Friday, and returning at 10PM is also technically still Friday. Not what I had in mind, but I am here for new experiences. It also means I had to find transportation to the school because there was no way I was walking 45 minutes in the pitch black to my school. My students spent the night at school, but I was not really up for that since none of the other teachers were going to be there I mentioned my host mother is incredible. She is having her driver wake up and take me to school at 2:30AM. I am here to help and I feel like there is no way to ever repay them for all the favors they do for me.

I am trying to go in with a positive attitude, but public transportation in this country is usually a nightmare so I am preparing for the worst. I am preparing myself to be incredibly patient, understanding, and embrace my surroundings. I just finished a session of yoga and meditation (no lie, what is this country doing to me?). I am going to bed around 7PM to catch a few hours of sleep before a long day. I will be back into report soon!

dad? Dad? DAd? DAD?

Dear Dad,

I love you lots. I miss you even more. And most of all, I thank you! The doctor came to visit me Thursday (02.25.10) and along with some shots he brought a centimeter thick stack of tax papers. It took me all weekend to convince myself to open the packet. Then it really sunk in that you are far away and I had no idea how to fill these obnoxious forms out. You are such a great dad! If I was not in the mountains of Africa I would just hand over the stack to you and in all the busyness of life you would take time for me and fill them out. Actually, there usually is not even handing over. I have never even seen tax forms. In the words of Nike, you just do it! Your little girl is grown up and she misses you tons. How much do you think it cost to fax a centimeter stack of paper to America? Not more than your love for me? Throw it on my tab! Thanks!

Love always, Your darling daughter