Chicken Slaughtering 102

I still do not know if the chicken or the egg came first, but I do know that I took my classes out of order. You slaughter the chicken before you slaughter the sheep. There is a lot less blood, guts, and work involved. It is only a three hour process versus about a seven hour process. The Basotho’s head would probably explode if they saw how CHEAP and ACCESSIBLE chicken was in the states.

Step 1: Catch the chicken. This part is actually more difficult than catching the sheep. Step 2: Slit the neck and let the blood drain out. Completely sever the head.

Step 3: Boil water and let the chicken sit in there for about 2 minutes to loosen up the feathers.
Step 4: Pluck the feathers (what a pain).

Step 5: Turn on the gas stove (remember light the match, then turn on the gas). Hold the chicken above the gas to burn off all the remaining tiny feathers (or your arm hair). 

Step 6: Cut the chicken open and clean each part individually. When the part is clean add to the cooking pan. Everything is cooked together except the intestines.

Step 7: Add the intestines to their own pan for more thorough cooking. Remember, nothing is wasted.

Step 8: Cook in boiling oil AND salt till golden brown.

In America we fight over the leg, here the head is where it’s at. Diversity is a wonderful thing!

The Nightly News

On Generations night I try show up to my host familys house early in order to catch the Rand/Dollar exchange rate (our vacation money is based on it) and the [South African] weather report.

Tonight, before the weather we have some breaking news.

BREAKING NEWS: Disappointed South Africans! BREAKING NEWS: Many South Africans are in shock after learning there is not a HUGE black lake in the middle of their country and instead it is another country, completely landlocked within their own. BREAKING NEWS: The lake has not been the root of all the flooding, thank the rain for that one.

Now for the weather report. Tomorrow looks like cloudy skies, about 78 degrees, with a 90% chance of thunderstorms. For the weekend the forecast it looks clear and windy. After five straight weeks of rain… perhaps, a temporary break? Looks like it is going to be a perfect opportunity for chicken slaughtering and hiking.

In all seriousness, Lesotho has its own news network which they broadcasts across their TVs in their native language (Sesotho). They do not have weather predicting capabilities so the South African weather report is used, where Lesotho is blacked out. Lesotho is the size of Maryland, not that big. You think the South African weather report would cover it or at the very least label it. Nope. Other volunteers have informed me when they have been traveling through South Africa they will tell the Afrikaners they live in Lesotho and they will reply, “where’s that?” Oh, only in your country!

Typical Day

Some might wonder what a typical day in Lesotho is like. Other might not, stop reading. I wake up at 6:00 AM every day thanks to the fluttering flies, the barking dogs, or the mooing cows. I begin the day by sprinting to the latrine. We are not allowed out past dark, not even to use the latrine (safety first), thus leaving my bladder quite full in the morning. After relieving myself, I brush my teeth and make my bed. Not a big deal, I do both those chores every morning in America too… except I have a sink to brush my teeth in and a fitted sheet for my bed. Not here, oh well, after about a day you adjust. Then I put away last nights dinner dishes and continue by making my lunch for school. I get dressed (in one of my three outfits). All that freaking out over packing, what a waste! I have used all of about 8 articles of clothing since arriving here. Once everything is in order I eat breakfast (home-made granola and an apple).

I hit the road at 7:00 AM, arriving at school just in time for the 7:45 AM daily assembly. School begins at 7:00 AM (I refuse to arrive that early) and runs till 4:00 PM. During school, I teach (imagine that) about three and a half hours, I write tons of letters, read about a book a day, listen to the teachers babble in Sesotho, and usually take a couple of short walks. I walk home feeling quite satisfied about my productivity for the day. On the walk home townies are out and about eager for conversation so it takes a tad longer to make it to my final destination.

If a typical day includes bathing (which is does not…but I want to look busy so I am going to proceed) I walk in the door and grab the rug. The rug gets hung on the line and beat with my broom (a great stress reducer). I head in doors, sweep the hut free of all (I wish) dust and hair (which is falling out at an alarming rate). Then I bathe in 2 liters of freezing cold water. After drying and clothing I take the water to the waste water hole usually spilling about half of it on my clean self. When I do not bathe and sweep, I play 44 games of Solitaire or read another book.

Now, it is time to cook dinner. Dinner consists of zucchini and onions cooked in a pan (at least for the past 21 straight days). If there is an art to cutting zucchini and onions, I have mastered it! Then I clean all the utensils I have used for the day, brush my teeth, and use the latrine for the last time of the day. I am still learning the “pee on command technique.” For those who can’t quite get it down, the pee bucket sits empty anxiously waiting to be filled.

At 8:00 PM I join my host family in the house for a family viewing of Generations, a South African soap. The show last all of 30 minutes if things are running on time, yes even the TV can not stick to a schedule. I usually bond with my “sisters” over broken Sesotho for a short while before hitting the sack at 9:00 PM. Sleep, repeat.

Love and Hate

Scenes I love:

· The two year old child walking bare foot, alone one mile along glass covered dirt "roads" to the nearest shop to pick up some eggs!

· The man walking his horse in suit and tie.

· The woman in heels on the rough terrain that is Lesotho.

· The men peeing everywhere in public.

· The gravel/dirt runway planes land on in my district.

· Grown Basotho men holding hands. This culture is very affectionate. It is not uncommon that you see two teenage to elderly men holding hands.

· The stars. When it is not pouring rain the stars here are absolutely incredible. Plus, since I am currently lodging in the southern hemisphere it is a whole new set!

· Herd Boys wearing underwear and blankets. They look like superheroes, it’s awesome!

Scenes I Hate:

· Children eating their notes and my chalk at school. They really are that hungry!

· Witnessing corporal punishment at school.

· The rocks that are thrown at dogs.

· Grannies and children CONSTANTLY asking for candy.

Free Internet? Where?

I know I sent out an email saying I was not going to have internet until Easter. Peace Corp warned me of this, so I wanted to warn all of you! Well, I really lucked out! My closest volunteer (about a 35 minute walk), R.E. works for World Food Program (WFP) who just so happens to have an office in the Ministry of Education (MOE) building. I am a teacher so I have "access" to this building. Onwards. No one in Lesotho works on Saturday so R.E. told me to go to the MOE and ask the security guard (who does not speak a lick on English) for the WFP key. I asked, she handed over the key. Next step, the computer is going to ask you for a password. All you have to do is press "enter." It worked. I am still amazed, aren't security guards and passwords supposed to prevent people like me from doing things like this? Of course, I do not want access to any of their files and I would never mess up anything on purpose. I simply want an hour of internet a week to get the here and now on all of your lives.

So here I sit enjoying free internet at a decent pace until my heart is content. Why is free internet so important? It cost 15 rand (or maluti) to use the internet cafe in Thaba Tseka for 15 minutes. On that same computer is takes four minutes to bring up the gmail page and another two to actually sign in, leaving nine minutes left and a very stressed out volunteer. Sometimes it is nice living in a fish bowl.

I just uploaded six posts. I posted them on the days they were written. It might make sense to read them starting with Sunday, January 17th. The choice is yours, my friend.

Do I like my life here?

Somedays, yes. Somedays, no. This week was really hard. I never actually started teaching until Friday, despite the children showing up on Tuesday. Tuesday was spent "sorting" the students. There are 500 plus students and the entire day was spent dividing them into eleven classes. Not just the entire day Tuesday, part of Wednesday as well. Tuesday, I had brought plenty to do. I wrote four letters and finished New Moon (the second book of the Twilight series... am I really reading this?). Tuesday the rain began.

On Wednesday, I did not understand what was going on so I went to investigate. There were still 118 students to be "sorted!" Are you kidding me? Is this some sort of joke? I sorted all of those students in 12 minutes (yes, I timed myself). The teachers were in shock, "how did you do that?" You demand fucking order, that is how you do it. Stop the mass choas. So by this time a few of my classes were over, but I could spend the rest of the day teaching. NOT! Now, the students needed books. So many questions... why weren't the teachers who had been playing around in the staff room working on this while students were being "sorted?" Oh wait, you have not learned the word efficiency. Side note: I borrowed a dictionary, looked up efficiency, wrote down the definition, and posted it on the door to the staff room. It humors me. Oh, it's still raining.

I volunteered to take charge, knowing if I let them do it I would not be teaching until Easter break. It took me half the day on Wednesday and ALL day Thursday working efficiently to get 500 students their books. I will not even begin to tell you what an absolute nightmare this was. I should have turned around and walked out when I opened the door to the classrooms where the books were stored and saw 7000+ "textbooks" lying on the ground. Each student has 15 "textbooks," and about 500 were missing (of course, I did not know which ones). Oh and yes, they "care" about their textbooks so they were all covered in paper, meaning to sort them I had to open each one to discover the title. Rest assured, I will collect the books in December when school ends and properly demonstrate how to another teacher (oh sustainability) how to organize and care for the textbooks so it never takes that much time again!

Thursday night as I began my walk 45 minute walk home in the rain (yes, it was still raining), two of the teachers accompained me. They complimented me on how hard I worked and how kind I was. I laughed, if they only knew what had been going on in my head all week. Really, though the comments were so welcomed. FINALLY, someone was reaching out to me! I had been greeting them and speaking basic Sesotho with them all week, but I did not think they noticed or cared at all. They did! They went on to tell me the previous volunteer was a little cold and she never learned any Sesotho. The "silent treatment/we only speak Sesotho in the staff room" had not been me at all. It never bothered the previous volunteer because she found her friends elsewhere. They even offered to teach me Sesotho (before I told them the PC would pay them). I want to continue learning the language! I can probably get by without it, however, it brightens the Basotho's day when you speak to them in their language. Plus, my biggest complaint all week has been how lonely I am. If I can speak their language... I can make more friends.

Things were starting to look up. I learned I am going to be perpetually soaked until the end of Feburary. The rain here is amazing, I do not mind. It just seemed fitting to mention how it was pouring rain during my long week. Drenched, I taught my first class on friday. With 58 students and a very tight classroom I found it incredibly hard to be mobile and keep everyone engaged. I also learned that half of them came from an elementary school where they did not speak English (which is "illegal" in Lesotho, ha, oh accountability) and the other half came from the fifth (who knows how accurate that is) best elementary school in the country. Challenge? Yes!

I planned a 15 minute activity ("You wake up tomorrow and you are the teacher, what good ideas will you bring to the class") suggested to us during training. The assignment was get in groups of five, spend five minutes discussing, and pick someone to present to the class. The purpose behind this activity is to learn what students expect from you as a teacher. Well, it took the entire 40 minute period (for serveral reasons). One being they did not know what a group of five was. Another, what does "present" mean? So many more reasons too. That is definitely a flaw on my part (and the Peace Corp), we practice taught at one of the best high schools in the country... and now reality. I felt like I was doing everything right or at least trying everything, but they still weren't grasping the concept. I refuse to lecture to them for the next two years. They are going to learn about student-centered learning whether it kills me (or them) or not. A few groups, 3 out of 11 were able to present their ideas at the end of class. All three groups responded, "a good teacher does not shout and practices corporal punishment." I am sure I hid my facial expressions well. Not. You are so brainwashed, you want me to beat you? Needless to say, I readjusted for my next couple of classes.

I think I can. I think I can.

Reverse Psychology

Lesotho is having the opposite effect on me. I mentioned in my last post I was extremely aware of my water usage here, keeping it to about 30 liters a week for all the “water chores.” Aware is probably the wrong word. In America, I was aware. Remember the girl who showered every other day and kept them to four minutes or less? Say goodbye, she is gone. Granted my water usage here is more of a laze issue. Water is super heavy and the pumps are most frequently dry, so forget it… my dishes, clothes, and I can go dirty. But you just wait till I get home; I am showering EACH AND EVERYDAY until the water runs out.

And the cheap girl, the one who collected pennies on the side of the road. Say goodbye, she is gone too. When I get home I am spending every penny in that bank account because by golly budgeting for $2.94 a week is rough. Plus, it does not go far. What really is the point of saving? There is time for that later. If I have learned anything from this country so far it is live everyday like it is your last. Better get to spending.

The health nut? Unfortunately, she has to stick around for the next two years. However, I can promise you after 13 straight days of zucchini and onions for dinner… and what like two years to go? Forget it, she will be gone too! I will come home, and I will sit in my parent’s (love you) kitchen waiting to be served fourth servings of baked ziti and homemade macaroni and cheese! Hand over the [BAG of] chips and [PLATE of] cookies. The Basotho do not know what they are missing, eating the same thing every single day.

The save the world, R.D.S. there is no need to drive the half mile to my house, girl. Recycle this, recycle that. Well, part of her might be left. She will have just spent the last 27 months BURNING(!!!) her trash. Though, I warn you: clear the roads, I am driving the first car I can get my hands! I might even become a taxi driver.