Home Takes Time

I'm an Army Brat... So all in all, my move to Ha Selomo has been my twelth in my lifetime, and my second as an adult, living on my own. Needless to say, I'm not new to the concept of being the "new-comer" in a community. If anything, I thrive on it. I love the adventure of a new place... Exploring the local hot-spots, meeting new neighbors, finding a nitch, giving something back to a new community. It's thrilling and rewarding. Moving makes me feel like my life is moving forward in a positive way.

But even with all of my moves... Friends I've waved goodbye to, new houses I've had to make into homes, and akward moments as the "new kid on the block"... My most recent move to Ha Selomo has, for somewhat obvious reasons, been the most difficult. Obviously the logistics involved in "moving" (as if it was some quick and easy drive across town to a new house) to Lesotho have been quite the ordeal, in and of themselves... Two years of applications, one international flight with 30 strangers (soon-to-be-family, whether you like it or not!), two over-stuffed luggage bags, nine weeks of intense and exhausting PC training, one new culture, one new language, two rural villages, two new host families, a few hours on a van, and countless random bags and boxes (seriously, finding a good sturdy box around here is like the ultimate treasure hunt!) full of two years worth of possessions.... And voila! Welcome to your new home!

AND this is where I think I went wrong... And boy, was Lesotho ready and willing to teach me yet another lesson! All of these logistical checkmarks on my ever-growing to-do-list, do not a home make. Of course, I somehow knew this... Yet over the past few weeks in Ha Selomo, I've found myself more frustrated than perhaps during any other move I've previously experienced. And not with the culture, or lanuguage, or lack of amenities, or my new Basotho neighbors whose customs are so different from my own at times... But with myself.

I think I thought that because I was an Army Brat, OR had a Master's degree in Anthropology, OR was relatively well-traveled for my age, OR had really taken the time to prepare myself, mentally and emotionally, for this journey... I think I thought that maybe this transition would be natural for me? That since I was "meant to do this" is would somehow be easier for me. That maybe, just maybe, culture shock would be lessened by my preparations. WRONG. Lesson #1: I don't care if you are Margaret Meade herself... There is nothing easy, simple, or natural about being thrust into a foreign culture. I did everything Peace Corps asked of me... Including the part about having no expectations about your new home and culture. The problem is, I had far too many (and too high) expectations for myself.

I am and was no more prepared to face this experience than any other human being. Yet in moments when I felt socially uncomfortable, OR did not want to leave my house for fear of MORE questions and staring, OR got tongue-tied trying to find the words to explain myself in Sesotho- I blamed myself. I grew impatient with my own imperfections... I grew more and more frustrated with my inability to immediately be "right at home" in this new place. If only I could speak better Sesotho, or if I was more-outgoing and less introverted... If only I was better... Different. Maybe this would feel like home already. But I was wrong to be impatient with myself... So instead, I'm learning to let go.

After Christmas break and countless, much-needed, debrief sessions with my PC friends, I've come to a new perspective on this experience... I've decided to embrace the fact that I am who I am. I am still me- just ME in Lesotho, instead of ME in America. I can't change the fact that this is NOT the culture I was raised in, and so a million simple, tiny things on any given day feel different to me here. This doesn't feel like "my home" because it's not necessarily meant to be. And that's not my fault... In fact, it's no one's fault. It just is. (Welcome to the real-life experience of the importance of "culture" that no graduate degree in Anthropology can truly teach you!) I can't change the fact that I am an introvert. I was one in America, and I was going to be one here... So expecting that I am never going to tire of people asking me questions, or touching me, or staring at me 24/7, when I'm doing nothing more interesting than walking to the shopong to buy eggs, is completely unreasonable. I didn't appreciate "social overload" situations in America (And let's face it, my life here feels like one slightly uncomfortable and mistranslated social situation after another! Haha)- So I shouldn't feel guilty about not being out "integrating into my community," when I need a few hours of "me time." I have to be honest and patient with myself.

And this is perhaps the part of the story where I should be honest in saying that, despite all of the above mentioned frustrations, Ha Selomo is legitimately wonderful. My Basotho neighbors are, without a doubt, some of the most welcoming people I have ever met. I'm beyond excited to start teaching on January 28th (what in the world I'm going to do until then, is another question!) It doesn't quite feel like "home" yet, but I know it will soon... And I don't think I really knew that until yesterday.

Yesterday was the first time that I really thought, "This is MY village now, too." I went to church for the first time with a neighbor of mine, Keke... Being in church again, apart from being therapuetic for me personally, reminded me of what I fell in love with in Kenya, and why I waited so long to come back to Africa. There's just something about the cacophony of musical harmonies that fills the air and engulfs you until you can sense nothing but that moment in time. You are nothing but sensation- the sway of bodies crammed closely together, the shouts of joy and rhythmic clapping that seems so omnipresent you aren't certain if the noise came from you or someone else, the complete spontaneity and abandon of worship... Everyone is a sinner, and everyone is the preacher. It was the first time I felt I was a part of their community... Right in the middle of the group emotion and celebration. And in that moment, it felt like home to me for the first time.

Later in the afternoon, several of the local teenage girls and I sat around on my Ntate's porch and watched the village men play soccer. They giggled about boys, and whispered about village gossip. The men ran back and forth from the field to us, where I'd placed a pitcher and a bucket of water from the pump. It was a scorching hot Sunday afternoon, so the bo-Me (women) had nothing better to do than wander over to see me... And thanks to the presence of a few willing teenage translators, I was actually able to have real conversations with my neighbors. I told them about America, and they told me what color and design they think my next seschweschwe (traditional Basotho dress) should be. It was a good moment.

I baked fresh bohobe (bread) and peach cobbler, using peaches the Chief, Moena Moshoeshoe, had given me the day before.... And later in the evening, I went to visit my friend/IL (Introductory Liason), Phepheng, and her ohoono (grandmother) to take them cobbler and transplant a few of their strawberry plants to my garden. I walk through the village now, and people don't just know my name- occassionally I can remember theirs. The children don't simply stare anymore; they attempt a timid, "Hello" or "Bye-bye" to me in English (Because that's the rule- You come to visit Me' Limpho, you have to try to speak English! Haha). It was a day of a dozen little realizations or moments, that added up to a singular feeling of contentment... With myself, and with my place in Ha Selomo.

Things are getting better... And it's not my home yet, but it will be. I will know I've succeeded when I go away for a weekend, and can't wait to "come home" at the end of it. That's the moment I'm now PATIENTLY waiting for... Because sometimes "home takes time."

Christmas in Lesotho!

If I've learned one thing, it's that Christmas in Lesotho looks just a tiny bit different then what I'm accustomed to... :) For example, my Christmas preparations began with stuffing countless pots, sleeping bag, dish-soap, clothes, food, plus the ever-so-important TP into my overstuffed hiking pack. And as if the pack and bo-Me bag full of food and other supplies wasn't enough... Christmas in Lesotho wouldn't be complete without a little comedy routine! So I proceeded to chase two likhoho (chickens) around my Ntate's chicken-pen, much to the entertainment of my little Basotho cheering squad (ie. kids). We tied their feet, and stuffed those suckers into yet ANOTHER oversized bo-Me' bag! And this is only where the adventure begins... I, my two sqwaking chickens, two bo-Me' bags, and hiking pack then proceeded to cram into an unbelievably overstuffed khombi taxi (not once, but twice!)- And off we went to spend Christmas Eve with the other PCVs at Kyle's site in Butha-Buthe! All I can say, is that I will never again judge bo-Me' for sticking any given assortment of food, children, and livestock on my lap and in my face while on public transport. I am officially guilty of stuffing chickens on the poor Ntate who sat next to me. :) Although I do think the whole deal won the respect of more than a few women in Ha Selomo, who watched my comedy routine from a distance...

So here's the bad news... Only one of my chickens made it to Kyle's alive! But if you're looking for some sense of equality and justice, you'll be happy to know the other didn't get to live much longer! I told the boys from the get-go... I'll get the chickens to Kyle's house (Which mind you was a liuttle bit of treck, even once we got off the second txi.... He does NOT necessarily live near the main road, so just imagine 4 of us shluffing ourselves across the Lesotho foothills to reach the festivities), but the boys get to do the slaughtering. Well our dear friend, Shawn, has literally been talking about wanting to kill a chicken from Day 1 in Lesotho- Strange obsession, but we were oh-so-happy to oblige him! And for a second I honestly didn't think he'd do it... But he did! It's totally debateable who screamed more during the process, the chicken or Kim. :) And later that night, Kyle made the most amazing fried chicken ever! So good! It was worth the chicken escapade.

It was Shawn's moment to shine, but we all had our doubts he could pull it off... 

The much anticipated moment! 

 Horray! Never underestimate a PCV, or his desire for fried chicken on Christmas!  

Laura was simultaneously very intrigued and incredibly disgusted to hold meat that was still warm... She just kept saying, "This is so weird. This is SO weird!" :)

This is how we roll out the Christmas Spirit in Lesotho! Haha They didn't take off the Santa hat and antlers for our entire 4-day Christmas break. :) 

Kim and Will :) 

Ready to cook Christmas Eve Dinner! 

We don't do too bad without a stove or refrigerator! Delicious!

Kyle is a fried chicken genius! SO good!

We ended Christmas Eve with good friends, great food, plenty of wine, and Mike's rather entertaining and dramatic rendition of "The Night Before Christmas." It was so great to see everyone... I don't think I would've cared where we all were! The next morning we sat around drinking instant coffee, watching the sunrise over the mountains, and reading... The rain let up just in time for us to slowly make our way across the district to Liphofung National Park, where I'd reserved a chalet for our group (just beside a chalet full of some of our other fellow PCVs!) 

It wouldn't be Christmas without a reading of "The Night Before Christmas"... AND "The Night AFTER Christmas"??? Haha Very funny. 

Merry Christmas! Books and coffee on Christmas morning!

Liphofung was marvelous, and it was great that everyone got some space there to let their hair down without the constantly prying eyes of village life. We ate too much, sang Christmas carols, drank wine, played one awesome and make-shift game of Twister, watched Die Hard (at the insistence of the boys, who seemed to be under the impression that it is a Christmas classic! Haha), laid around and read all day long, took a trip down to see Liphofung caves, talked to family back home on the phone, and savored the hot showers, electricity, oven, and refrigerator! It was heaven! We're absolutely planning on going back again next year. :)

Preparing for Christmas Dinner at Liphofung National Park... We met up with the other PCV's there on Christmas Day! Yay for more friends!

Two of the most hilarious and wonderful people in Lesotho- Rachel and Mike! 

Just hanging out, and getting ready to eat Christmas Dinner! Yum!

Awesome make-shift game of twister! 

I honestly don't know how I would be surviving Peace Corps without Zoe and Rachel! :) 

Exploring Liphofung Caves on the day after Christmas!

The Leribe/Butha-Buthe Ed'13 ladies!

Very cool cave paintings in Liphofung Caves!

Ready to watch a Christmas classic... Wait for it... Die Hard?! The boys insisted it was appropriate. :) 

At one point we had 3 separate laptops synchronized to play the movie. Haha :) 

Cooking in a kitchen with a real oven and refrigerator?! We felt so spoiled!

A little piece of heaven... Gorgeous mountain views, peace, quiet, a ton of books, and nothing but time. <3 nbsp="nbsp" p="p">

Monhlolo Keresemae, batsoalle oa ka!
Hape keo lakaletsa mahlohonolo selemong se secha!

Merry Christmas, my friends!
I wish you good luck for the New Year!

Picture Perfect!

Lumelang!

FINALLY Just a few pictures... I promise to post more when the internet is more cooperative in town. Enjoy!

Zoe and I just before our "Swearing In Ceremony" in Berea! All of the PCVs wore traditional seshweshwe's handmade for us by our host mothers or LCFs (Language and Cultural Facilitators- ie. our Sesotho teachers). Our families also all gifted us with the famous, Basotho hats, later during the ceremony!

 Three of the most amazing LCFs a PCV could ever ask for, and more importantly, the reasons I passed my Language Proficiency Interview! L to R: 'Me Masebaqua, Limpho (ie. ME), 'Me Makabelo, and 'Me Lisebo. Training wouldn't have been the same without these amazingly patient and hilarious women!

My Host Family in Makola (my training village)! 

Top (L to R): Limpho Mothobi (ie. ME), Matsie (my brother)

Bottom (L to R): Tsoanelo (my little sister), 'Me Malehlohonolo (my amazinghost mother), Thato (my baby sister), and Toka (my little brother). I miss them already!

Possibly the greatest photo that's been taken yet in Lesotho... 

Around the second week of training, I took a trip with 4 or 5 of the guys out to Mokhotlong District (far eastern district, and about an 8 hr bus ride) in Lesotho for my "Host Volunteer Visit"...  Somehow the boys bestowed the nick-name "Gaia" or "Mother Earth" on me.. And when it turned out I was a natural at gardening in Makola during the coming weeks, it stuck. :) So now, anything I say (whether brilliant or not) is frequently followed by chanting, "Gaia! Gaia!" 

They insisted on a "Gaia" appropriate photo- Complete with Mike (far R) who runs MY world, and my loyal subjects paying homage. :) Haha

Taken while on my HVVisit in Mokhotlng District...
Gorgeous views o the Maluti Mountains in Eastern Lesotho! 

The whole gang after a gorgeous hike to the top of Thaba Bosiu (Mountain of the Night, a historic landmark and location of the founding of the Basotho nation by King Moshoeshoe I). You can't see it here, but the famous "Basotho Hat" mountain is in the background. 

Update from Butha Buthe!

Lumelang Friends and Family!

So I came into Butha Buthe camptown today to finally post photos... And as usual, Lesotho is teaching me another lesson in patience. A thunderstorm has kicked up outside, rendering my last hour attempting to upload photos useless. Welcome to life in Lesotho! :) So I will write a little instead before venturing into the rain in search of fresh veggies and cheese! (It's amazing how excited I get about the opportunity to buy cheese and meat here! Haha)

This is actually my first camptown outing in my new district, as I just made the move to my new home in Ha Selomo this past Thursday! Yay! To say that it's been an emotionally and physically overwhelming week would be an understatement... In keeping with the theme above, I find that patience (both with myself and with others) is my lesson for the week. This week has been a never-ending succession from moving and "Swearing In" to unpacking and hoards of visitors knocking on my rondaval door from the moment I arrived- Okay, well lets be honest... There seems to be very little knocking involved. It's more like akwardly walking into my house and standing in the middle of it staring at me akwardly. Haha I don't know what it is about my house that makes it community property, but needless to say I've very quickly learned to lock my burglar bars (ie. screened door) so I can control the flow of people in and out of my house. Haha

I appreciate the gesture, which I continuously remind myself is done with absolutely the best intentions. But I'm quickly discovering that an endless series of visitors at your house, questions from every stranger on the street, and constant staring/shouting can wear a person down... And I've only been at site 3 days. I know it will subside as I become less of a novelty in my village, but for the meantime I find myself constantly checking my patience and fighting the desire to curl up inside behind a locked door. Talk about the fish-bowl effect... This is a whole other ball game. Haha

But I'm certain it's nothing a few good nights sleep and a afternoon with a good book won't solve. I've been staying busy unpacking, making Christmas gifts for friends, and my host father, Ntate Bereng, has even already cleared a brand-new plot for my garden! I can't wait to start planting next week! Although I'm discovering, via all the village gossip I've created with my gardening excitement, that apparently bo-'Me (women) don't garden in Lesotho? Which I actually don't believe for a second... But either way the idea of ME gardening seems to have created quite the stir/disbelief. Well get ready, villagers... Because this is one lehooa (white person) who is craving fresh lettuce and watermelon! And I will not be deterred... Cow dung mulch or not! Apparently they haven't heard that my Peace Corps nick-name (bestowed on me during training) is Gaia (Mother Earth). :)

I'm very excited about Christmas.. Although, my mother was right. It's hard to get in the Christmas-Spirit in the middle of summer. I'll be spending 4 wonderful days (courtesy of Peace Corps) with several friends in Butha Buthe and Leribe. We're all gathering at a PCVs house for Christmas Eve, and then on Christmas Day are headed to a resort where we'll spend the next two days hanging out with a larger group of PCVs from across the northern districts. The timing of Christmas has been perfect to give me something to look forward to in the midst of moving to village... And I'm already looking forward to seeing my PC family again to hear all about their adventures in the first few weeks at site. :)

So I think I'll end this here. The rain has subsided, and I'm in charge of Christmas desserts, so I'm off to hunt for precious baking supplies! I promise to post pictures as soon as possible.

Until then... Love to all! And if I don't post again before then, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Khotsong! (Peace!) -Mary E.

The Big Move

So we’re approaching the end of our Pre-Service Training (PST), and I can’t believe that it has already been two months since we stepped foot in Lesotho. It seems like it was just yesterday, and at the same time I almost can’t remember what my life was like before I moved here… The world of indoor plumbing and private cars has never seemed further away, and yet, quite frankly, I can’t imagine a time in my life when I’ve been happier or more fulfilled. It’s a difficult feeling of contentment to describe…

But for all of us current-trainees (ie. soon to be Peace Corps Volunteers!) our temporarily, stable and “normal” lives in Berea District are about to be uprooted yet again… And this time we’re making the “Big Move.” It’s debatable whether the most difficult part of this adventure is already behind us or yet to come… Either way, anxieties and excitement are high in the village as we approach our “Swearing In Ceremony” on Monday afternoon. We will officially become Peace Corps Volunteers when we take our oath… Yet I know many of us feel that the real test of whether we can count ourselves among PCVs world-wide, will be proven in the next few days and weeks, as we scatter to the far corners of Lesotho and attempt to make a new place in a foreign culture our home.

For me, I think this is the real challenge moving forward. Our Country Director, Kathy, told us yesterday that the next few months will be the part where “you prove to Peace Corps, and more importantly, to yourself that you can do this.” I swear I could have heard a pin drop in that little church. I’m nearly certain we each felt our stomachs shift slightly at the thought of what lies ahead… The magnitude of this next step is overwhelming… For every single trainee, years of waiting in the U.S., months of packing and repacking, countless amounts of tax-payer dollars, and several thousand students across Lesotho all come down to this next step. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for…. It’s the answer to a question that has plagued each of us since we first hit “Enter” on our Peace Corps applications months or years ago. CAN I DO THIS? How will I cope with isolation? How will I make this new place in a foreign culture my home? Will my fledgling Sesotho skills be enough to carry me through the plethora of unimaginable situations that lie in front of me? Will I feel safe there? Will it ever feel like MY family, MY home, MY village? Will I be able to make a lasting difference in the lives of even one of my students?

I am lucky, in that I have no doubts that I will make it through my two years of service… (In fact, it’s even already crossed my mind that I might not be ready to leave in two-years!) For me, it is only a question of “how” I will survive, not “if.” I am much too stubborn and determined to leave under anything other than extreme circumstances, and I do truly love it here already. But despite where each of us is mentally or emotionally- We are not in this alone. Which for me, is a source of incredible calm and stability as I face this next step.

I could never sing the praises of the Peace Corps Lesotho Staff and current PCVs enough. It is unbelievable the amazing out-pouring of support and love we’ve received throughout PST, and for that I’m eternally thankful. They truly are a family here, and I am honored to be joining it. I feel prepared… Thanks to countless hours of technical trainings, safety and security briefings, health lectures, practice teaching, one-on-one Sesotho tutoring, cultural integration trainings, and field trips across Lesotho. I can’t imagine fitting one more nugget of information into my exhausted and overwhelmed brain. Ha!

The end result, however, is that I am ready to face this next challenge. WE are ready. WE will do this together… With a lot of laughter, consistent support from our new mentors and friends in Peace Corps, and with a huge dose of resiliency. WE will do this.

Thank you to everyone that helped us get here!

Khotsong! (Peace!) –Mary Beth