Food For Thought

There are an abundance of things that make this life an adventure; one of these things is food. No, I am not eating any exotic new foods, instead I am learning so much about the food I have been consuming for years. I can’t tell you how fun it is to grow your own food and live by the season. For things I can’t find in the garden I go to town for produce shopping at least once a week and it seems like every month the choices are changing. Cabbage and pumpkin (butternut squash) this month for vegetables, while I continue to enjoy green apples and welcome oranges as my variety of fruit. It’s entertaining because you never know what you are going to get, of course, next year I will have it mapped out. I am already counting down the days till peaches and mangos come back. The only thing getting me through cabbage season is the rumor avocados are on their way! Yet, then again America is fun because you always know you can get exactly what you want, we might be paying a price (no pun intended) for that… but we probably will not ever know the exact cost in our lifetime.

Let me clue you in on a few of the things I have learned about food, mainly produce, throughout my stay thus far. Those of you who know me really well know I will not touch, peel, or look at a banana with a brown spec on it. I have gone to such extremes as hiding bananas while babysitting because looking at rotten bananas makes me want to scream and the thought of someone consuming that fruit fly infested fruit makes me want to vomit. That has all changed! The bananas I eat here can be completely brown on the outside and unharmed on the inside. It took me four months to give in and check it out for myself, boy am I glad I did! Similar to the durable banana peel, oranges have a mighty thick rind making them incredibly tough to peel. Now J.L.W. you might be thinking you have had difficulty peeling oranges in the states, well you have no idea. I have fond memories watching you spend your entire lunch period peeling an American orange, granted you are a meticulous peeler. These memories add laughter to my life here each and every time I choose to eat an orange. I am now the one who spends me entire lunch period peeling, you would be peeling all day! As for my favorite apple, the Granny Smith, they’re actually not normally as humongous as they appear in American produce section. In reality, they are just as small as the other breeds. And when stored with other fruits and vegetables they release a potent gas (ethylene, I think but should know) that causes other fruits and vegetables to rot faster.

Shall we move on to veggies? Cabbage can be cooked with anything and lasts for decades. I am on my second head of cabbage now and can officially declare my dislike. Luckily, it won’t go bad for over five weeks. I will continue to force myself to choke down a leaf a day until it is gone, forever. It’s hard to turn down a head (much bigger than mine, which is quite large) of cabbage when it cost less than a dollar, provides over 15 meals, and I’m on a PC salary. Peppers have a very short shelf life and mold from the inside out (tricky). The biggest shock has be carrots, which are actually flexible when pulled straight from the garden and much like my dear friend the green pepper they do not last long at all! Leafy greens, a gem when found, have an increased life expectancy when left soaking in water until use.

On to my newest fascination: eggs! I have heard people in the states claim certain eggs are delicious, and we are not talking about the way they are prepared. I am talking about the egg itself. I never understood until I started buying eggs from my family the day they are laid. These eggs are scrumptious! While they are best the day they are laid, unrefrigerated they last over a month. I said I would never eat meat after watching that first sheep go down, but lately the lack of iron in my body is taking a toll on me. I have not given in yet but each day breaks me down a little more. As far as meat observations go I have learned chickens actually have incredibly thin, almost transparent, skin. It is no surprise we have thick skinned chickens in the good ole’ U S of A, after all our turkeys are so genetically modified they can’t reproduce on their own.

My newfound knowledge on food has me a little hesitant to come back to the states where preservatives, pesticides, bigger and brighter are always better are the norms.

Advice Column #1

Dear Replacement Volunteer,

Thus far I have truly enjoyed my time living and working here in Thaba Tseka. Overall, the experience has been nothing but positive. You are living with one of the most progressive host mothers in the entire country; she has tons of love to share! I imagine she will impact all of your decisions here as much as she has my own. I have made many friends I hope you will soon adopt, especially my dear friend, the puppy-making machine, Spads. I am sure in no time at all the community will embrace you as much as they have me.

I have several questions I wish I could ask the volunteer before me and therefore I have decided to keep an “advice column” for you throughout my stay. I taught math and science to eighth and ninth grade, and I assume you will be doing the same. You will notice within a week of teaching how challenging it is to teach students who lack the fundamentals in math or any note taking/study habits that would be beneficial in science, not to mention there is a major the language barrier. T.T.G.H.S. is an English-medium school so you do get to teach in English, however, it’s the students second language and they are far from fluent. The rest of the teachers have the advantage of being able to translate misunderstandings/confusion to Sesotho, the native language. Be patient and laugh often. You might offer yourself up as an immediate aid, a tutor perhaps, as I did. I highly recommend serving as a tutor and should you choose this path my first piece of advice is to set ground rules and tread lightly.

I am a little over six months into my service and I am tutoring six children regularly, three of them are family members. The semester is rapidly coming to an end and I feel totally burn out, not a good feeling with 21 months of service remaining. I tutor two hours a night, six nights a week. It’s too much, at least for me, after teaching a full day at school during the week. My schedule is strict and leaves me feeling guilty when I want to travel on the weekends or simply have alone time.

For the most part tutoring has been the most encouraging part of the experience. Working one-on-one with these students has allowed to visually track their progress (keeping me motivated) which I have been unable to do with my own students as there are only two recorded grades a quarter. It is significantly easier to work with one student and focus on their struggles as opposed to a class of 60 plus on all different levels. I have been able to build into the lives of these students and allowed them to build into my own. On lonely nights their company is welcome. They teach me just about as much as I teach them. It’s just those few off nights that remind me I am only human.

Next semester I am having tutoring hours, twice a week, two hours each night. It is going to force the students to share their time but it is going to give me weekends, freedom to breath, and optimistically give me more energy for each session (less answer giving, more thought provoking). I’ll be sure to let you know how that works out.

For all I know you will not tutor at all or you will be a machine and tackle the entire school. This is my humble advice; use your own digression. Best of luck during your service!

Sincerely, Ausi Relebohile

Update on Ma-ta-ta

It’s another African miracle. She is back to her old self again: eating, barking, and causing havoc. I cleaned off all the blood to with any luck avoid infection. Then I wired her mouth shut in order to hold her jaw in place, hopefully allowing it to heal quickly. Call me cruel, but she wasn’t eating or barking anyways! She disappeared for two days, and I was most certain she was dead. She reappeared, wireless, with papa (human and dog staple food) all over her face. Ever since then she has been steadily gaining weight and busy helping me prepare her next meal (the litter of puppies due any day now).

Little Leo

As long as the mice continue to reside in my hut I will be sure to update you on our ever so tense relationship. The cat finally arrived, only he/she (I haven’t checked the sex as he/she is a pain to catch) isn’t quite a cat yet. In typical Basotho fashion Leo was taken from his/her mother far too early. His/her current size rivals that of my mice, and it doesn’t help that he/she is severely outnumbered. Leo and I are on the same terms I am with the mice. He/she has been around for a week but has only spent a total of two nights ridding my hut of mice. That does not make any sense to those of you who have been anxiously awaiting Leo’s arrival.

Here is why: On night one everything went according to plan, or so I thought. I slept and I am not sure what Leo did. If he/she did nothing his/her scent at least kept the mice to a minimum. Rise, shine, and itch. My back and legs were on fire. Bed bugs? You can’t be serious, it’s winter and I have had about all I can take in the houseguest department. Turns out, Leo has fleas which in turn meant I had fleas, or flea bites anyways. Mice win.

A week and a bath later I welcomed Leo back into my hut for round two. If kittens could talk Leo probably would have been upfront with me and politely declined my invitation to stay the night. He/she cried the entire night; there was not a second of silence at any point during the night. At about two I wanted to let her out, but that was not an option because Ma-ta-ta patrols the compound at night leaving no safe haven for Leo. Mice win.

These mice may be winning all the battles. They will not win the war.

The rest of my life

This life is great (although you might not define life as “great” after the last three posts), nevertheless my job here is not permanent. Perhaps these two years of life/job might be a bridge to grad school, a potential job, or simply change who I am (hopefully for the better)? For several years I have known I am decent with children. I have this ability to bond with them that I have been in denial about, till I got here. My “ability” became even more apparent listening to other volunteers continuously complain about how annoying the children of Lesotho are. We all have our complaints, the children are the last thing I would complain about. It's definitely frustrating to constantly be asked for money and candy, their children though, children who have been brainwashed to think all white people come carrying money and candy. All they need is five seconds of your time and a lot of your love. In my opinion they are innocent.

Children demand a ton of patience and even more energy. At the same time they are always offering new perspectives on everything. They are adorable curious sponges for knowledge who love laughing and making total fools of themselves. Each one of them touches me in a different way, from I.J.S. (the all boy, lets dig for worms to feed to turtles a two mile bike ride from home, bundle of energy) to A.L.R.L. (the all girl, brush the sand off my feet before I get in the car, knows exactly what she wants).

Before I left America I was dead set on the public health side of environmental engineering and not having children of my own. Well I am still dead set on not having children of my own. Why? Having my own children will most definitely ruin children for me. I like the fun part—the chasing each other in circles for hours, the laughing until you wet your pants, the cuddle up and read a book. I am getting off track, big surprise. Onwards. Environmental engineering plus no children of my own will mean little to no children in my life on a regular basis, and I need at least one dose of child a day. Thursday was a sign, a blaringly obvious sign that I am supposed to work with children in some way, shape, or form. I realize I change my mind like every day but the rest of my life is a mega deal, not a decision someone who likes to be spontaneous can make over night… or over the course of four college years.

The way I see it pediatric nursing is the career for me. The pros: no sitting behind a desk, no five day work weeks, lots of travel, a regular dose of child, I will be able to live comfortably, and John Hopkins has an accelerated nursing program through Peace Corps Partnerships. The cons: blood and I without a doubt do not get along (BUT because children and I get along so well maybe I can tackle this tiny obstacle) and I unquestionably do not want to go to John Hopkins (I was thinking more along the lines of Wisconsin or Oregon, of course, I could spend two years at John Hopkins in Baltimore, close to my parents and then go live real life in Wisconsin or Oregon).

I’ll let you know tomorrows plans, well tomorrow.

Keeping it all in Perspective

Back to school blues. One would think all that lying in bed on Monday and Tuesday would have me energized for today despite all of yesterdays travels. It didn’t. Five minutes into my walk to school my host mother’s driver picked me up and drove me 30 minutes of the walk. Sweet. I was extra early to school, in time for the morning beatings. Welcome back. I bonded with the night watchman until assembly, where I found out there was no formal school today. That is exactly what I wanted to hear! I love that about this country. It requires you to be incredibly flexible. You might be reading this and thinking to yourself you haven’t exactly been present at school that much this week. You might have been prepared for this had you shown up. Nope, you’re wrong. I promise you nothing is announced until it’s time for them happen, unless they require money and even then you get about a days notice. I am so fond of spontaneity. There is a list of 453 things that are going to annoy me when I get home, people trying to plan things is number three on the list.

Today, we would be going on a “fun walk” instead. That idea of a “fun walk” makes me laugh. The Basotho hate walking, probably because they walk so much. We walked five kilometers to the starting point where all the camptown schools gathered for a six kilometer walk to the playground (no swings, no slides, just a dirt track). Side note: thank goodness I got a ride to school today. My heart goes out to all those students that walked a minimum of two kilometers to school. When we finally arrived at the playground at half past 10 the “Education for All” program started, only two hours behind schedule. I missed the first part of the program because my school sent me home to gather my camera, another four kilometers logged. There were speeches, singing, dancing, and dramas galore when I returned. At one I called it a day, a spectacular day. I spent the majority of the time with middle sister and her best friend. Side note two: she has known her best friend for three years and today was the first time she has been to her house. At their age (well their school age, juniors) my best friend had practically moved into my parent’s house. We spent every waking moment together. It’s no wonder most of my students are suffering from a stress disease called hysteria (more on this later).

Following the “Education for All” program I met up with a closest girl volunteer and we enjoyed an American afternoon. We got a plate (French fries, spinach, and beets—lunch of champions) at the expensive store and went “shopping” in all the stores we have yet to explore. I managed to gather the remaining supplies for the shelves I am building while she picked up some things to prepare her for the winter (tights and blankets). We decided it would have been awesome if there were a book store where we could sip on coffee and browse through books. As an alternative we settled on a game of snooker and wine. I am back on top (assuming I make it through my first real four hour washing session tomorrow morning).

Highest Highs

I am definitely not winning any volunteer of the year award, especially after this week, not that I was aiming for that anyways. Today I took another day off school. Yesterday went well, why did I need another day off? I am not sure but I did. The rule: I was not allowed to stay in bed. World Food Programme (WFP) was going to Ha Popa and I decided to join them. I met them at the ministry at half past seven and we departed. This was hands down my favorite day since arriving in country. Talk about a roller coaster. We drove two hours to Mansonyane and then went two hours further on these awful roads. While WFP was busy working I was busy meeting new friends. I interrupted classes to “motivate” students (not my idea). I held a baby while her mother swept dirt (when will this make sense?). I gathered ideas from the agriculture teacher on how to start a school garden. I was starting to fall in love with this place. This is what I thought Peace Corps would be. These children were roughing it. This village had a (that is ONE) 4-wheel pick-up truck that towed people to the closest town (Mansonyane) once a day as the only means of public transportation, there was no electricity, running water, or satellite dishes anywhere. The town had one shop that sold a total of 10 items. Peace Corps has a slogan, “life is calling, how far will you go?” That is how far I thought I was going. How ironic that I just wrote about how easy the general living part of life is here? There were no chalk boards at this school, one window per classroom, and dirt floors. I want to move. In Ha Popa I feel like I could make a difference. Everything I feel like I am capable of accomplishing at my school has already been done.

The day gets better. We continued nine kilometers on this road. It took us an hour! The roads (if you can call them roads) were terrible. We landed at Thabang Primary and here is where I actually fell in love. WFP hopped out of the car and got to work. I got out and immediately started playing with the children. We sang, we danced, and we bonded. They gave me a tour of their school. It was a one-room (10 by four meters) schoolhouse supporting seven classes and a pre-school. All 130 children crammed into this single classroom learning simultaneously. Each window was cracked and the doors were a foot off the ground. There were no floors, no books, no chairs, no desks, and no chalkboards. There was nothing besides a lot of dirt. Every single thing about this village, the students, and this school broke my heart but called me at the same time.

I am confident I impacted these students more in 20 minutes then I have my students in four months. I gave each one of them a high-five, taught them all the hokey-pokey, and sang to them the ABCs. I did not want to leave at all. As much as I feel I touched the lives of these 130 children, they will always be a part of me. I can’t get their adorable smiling faces or shoeless feet out of my head. There is no public transportation from their village. They will probably live in that bubble the rest of their lives. Imagine a place so full of tradition education is second. Slightly over a week ago I said education is the key to success and I still stand firm on that. At the same time there is something unique about the fact it is 2010 and there are places left in the world where once you learn to write your name you are considered educated.

We ventured another six kilometers further into the depths of Thaba Tseka, Lesotho. This time it only took 30 minutes. We came to another primary school where this woman has inspired the entire community to support the school. They are in the middle of nowhere and she has two beautiful school rooms. She applied and received funding to build the classrooms all on her own. Then motivated the students and community members to gather rocks for the kitchen from over a kilometer away, and has people carry water half a kilometer up to the school garden. My school does not have a kitchen but their living conditions are worlds better. This is rough. Growing up adults always tell you they walked to school 15 miles in the snow uphill both ways, well here that expression stands here. Children really do that, on empty stomachs.

I got back to my place at 10:30 PM on Thursday night. I was in a car moving less than 15 kilometers an hour for most of the day. I really do love my school, my family, and my village. Although in actuality I thought I would be living in a place similar to the ones I visited today. A location I felt truly needed and had something to work for each day. That is not exactly the case where I am. Again, don’t get me wrong. There are things to do, many of these things are unfortunately out of my reach. I finally got to really experience the forgotten third world Africa and I loved every second of it. I suppose the grass is always greener on the other side. I am sure that life would be significantly more difficult and I probably would miss all my apples and electricity. I appreciate what I have here in the camptown and will continue to make the most of my situation. I will not forget about those children, and I hope that was not the last time I will see those adorable smiling faces at Thabang Primary.