The Trouble With Time.

The most significant decision I made while packing for Peace Corps wasn't in what I did pack, but in what I forgot to pack; I forgot to pack my wrist-watch. It was the same worn-out, silver-linked wrist-watch I'd worn through years of University, hours of studying during graduate school, and countless meticulously scheduled appointments while working at the American Cancer Society. The watch I lived my life in sync with; the clock that controlled my methodically planned life. Then I moved to Lesotho, and I accidentally left it behind. As it turned out, however, my packing oversight didn't make a bit of difference because in my little corner of Africa, time takes on a different meaning.

In Ha Selomo, life has a natural, almost “lazy” rhythm to it that makes watches nearly obsolete. Everything happens eventually, but worrying about "when" is pointless in a place where time itself seems optional.  A pitso (village meeting called by the Chief) scheduled for 9am, will begin "on-time" at 11am. Khombis (public taxis) come when they want, and the shopong opens when bo-'Me' finish their morning chores. The pump has no water, until one evening it does. And there is no such thing as "time wasted…" Afternoons spent watching likhomo (cattle) graze are hours just as well spent as any other.

It’s a liberating experience to escape the ticking of a watch. And despite my ingrained cultural attitudes towards time, which have made my adjustment to Ha Selomo occasionally frustrating, I have adapted. Over the past 9 months, I’ve watched my rigid schedules and obsessive planning dissolve, and I’m a healthier person for it. Every morning, I rise just before sunrise and fall asleep naturally just after sunset. I do still own a small digital clock, but I rarely need it. My days are measured by the steady progress of the sun as it crosses the sky. From anywhere in the Linakeng Valley, I can point out the opposing ridges that I watch it rise and set over every day. Interestingly enough, this “awareness” has also meant that, for the first time in my life, I’ve noticed the shift of the sun’s arch with the passing of the months.

In the absence of a ticking clock, I find myself drawn to new kinds of rhythms- those of my body, my community, the seasons, the sun. I notice things like seasonal change more acutely. Every season seems to have it’s own rhythm, chores, and sounds that guide it’s passing. Paying attention and living through these seasons has helped me understand the mentality of my community of subsistence-farmers more deeply as well. My Ntate’s obsession with weather and lack of discussion about “the future” makes more sense when you consider that his entire livelihood lives and dies with THIS harvest. He doesn’t own a clock, that I know of, and probably never will. He doesn’t need to. Living in the present absolves the need for watches. He is tied to this moment, day and season in a way that I never witnessed, no less understood, before living here.

I see the same mentality with time play out in  my students as well… They have trouble grasping the idea of truly envisioning and planning anything in the future. They want things “one day,” but they don’t obsess over achieving them the way that I did as a student. They don’t LIVE in the future. They live in the present as well, because their lives demand it. Their lives are full of present concerns and needs in a way that is foreign to many Americans- They need food now, are cold now, need money now. It’s a mentality of time that has both positive and negative affects on their school work and futures.

For me, adapting to a new concept of time has been the single healthiest lifestyle change that could have happened to me. The lack of attention to time is, without a doubt, one of my more frequent frustrations of living with Basotho. However, it’s also teaching me a valuable lesson about the importance of letting go and living in the moment. It’s a transforming experience… Realizing how much I don’t miss that little, ticking device that ruled my life. :)

With Love from Lesotho- Mary E.

Building Friendships. Building Faith.

I am blessed to have incredible friends in Lesotho. On a daily basis, my Peace Corps family is absolutely critical to my emotional health and happiness... From the moment we boarded the plane at JFK Airport, they were my support system. Friendships came easily and unbidden because we were on this crazy adventure together, whether we liked it or not! :) Given this, it may be surprising to hear that the most rewarding relationships that I have in Lesotho are not with other Americans... They are with Basotho.

Nine months into my service, I consider myself blessed to have built 2 or 3 strong Basotho friendships. This may seem like a pathetic boast to most, but it's not to me. It's important and truly meaningful. Its meaningful because its not a given or guarantee that when you join Peace Corps you will be successful at forging lasting relationships with host country nationals. Its difficult to create true friendships in a country where you don't speak the primary language, and where cultural differences can sometimes make it seem like you have very little in common with people.

A few of my friends and colleagues!
Me, Rethabile, Hente, and Ernie.

I'm incredibly happy and comfortable living in Ha Selomo. So it's sometimes difficult to understand how, while everyone in my region knows OF me, very few Basotho KNOW me. I sometimes wonder if any of my neighbors ever ask themselves what it feels like for me to live 8000 miles from home. If the man who screams "Lekhooa!" at me from the street ever wondered what I like to do in my free time, or how many siblings I have. If my colleagues, who know me as the "Math and Science" teacher, realize that I wrote my Anthropology Master's Dissertation on "Embodied Experiences of Pain During Childbirth." If the children that ko-ko at my door realize that, up until a few months ago, I had never been (or necessarily wanted to be) a teacher. People know 'Me' Limpho, the lekhooa teacher that lives in Ha Selomo. They rarely take the time to get to know Mary Beth Bird, the Army Bratt, who loves Jane Austen novels and inner-tubing down the Maury River with her family every summer. It’s just a fact of living here: Building cross-cultural friendships can be difficult.

Yet as challenging as these relationships can be, they are unbelievably rewarding. Take the case of my friend, ‘Me’ Makabelo… 'Me' and I have been friends since my PST, where she was one of my Sesotho teachers who lived in Makola with us trainees. She's an English high school teacher and part-time seamstress, who lives in Maseru with her husband and three kids. She’s a wonderful person, and her fluency in English and worldly attitude allowed us to quickly become fast friends. She's been a constant source of support and guidance for me ever since. 

During PST, modeling our new seschweschwe that ‘Me’ made!
Zoe, Me, Me Makabelo, Kim, and Amanda 

Yet when I decided to visit her and her family for a long weekend over winter break, I'll admit that I was a little apprehensive. I was incredibly excited to see her and meet her family, but I was also nervous that my visit would put her family "on-edge" or make them uncomfortable... That’s because I often feel that the "honored guest" status I am sometimes given puts up a wall between me and my Basotho hosts/friends. It's a difficult line to walk, between respect for their desire to welcome me properly and with respect, and the intimacy of informality and friendship. There always seems to be this pesky apprehension- Fear of doing or saying something wrong, wanting to make the other person comfortable, but not knowing how. It seems an inevitable initial awkwardness anytime I visit a Basotho friend for a meal or afternoon. But this was going to be more than that… I was going to be in her family’s personal space  (without my own to escape to) for a long weekend. It was going to be a new “cultural” experience. To be honest, I didn’t know what our friendship would be afterwards.

As it turns out, however, my apprehension was completely misplaced. From the moment I walked into their house in Matsieng, I was treated like family. It was an experience that was truly refreshing compared to previous encounters with Basotho families (even, at times, my own host family.) I felt absolutely at home with them. ‘Me’s youngest daughter, Lily, entertained me endlessly with demonstrations of "how clever she was," we went to church, cooked, curled up in bed with popcorn and movies, went on long walks, and talked for hours on end. It was an incredible weekend, and by the end of it, I could tell that 'Me' and I had really strengthened our friendship. I felt absolutely blessed that she and her family had welcomed me with open arms, and I could tell that my coming to visit meant a lot to her. And best of all… I got to spend the weekend as "Mary Beth," and being able to be myself with a Basotho friend meant the world to me. It was a wholly new experience for me in Lesotho.

So on my way home, I found myself thinking a lot about why my friendship with 'Me' Makabelo means so much to me... I have lots of friends here, but my relationship with her makes me feel something different than my Peace Corps friends. And then it occurred to me... Building my friendship with her gives me faith. Being friends with Americans is easy for me. Its a given. It comes naturally, without thought or reservation. But my friendship with her, while it did develop organically, might never have happened. It might not have happened if we both hadn't been people who look beyond stereotypes and our own comfort zones. It wouldn't have happened if we both weren't open to accepting different world views. Our relationship is built on empathy, humility, and desiring to understand someone who was raised in a very different social, cultural, and economic environment. At it's base is a mutual respect for human difference.

So building Basotho friendships gives me faith in humanity. It gives me faith that building cross-cultural bridges really is possible, whether in international policy, global healthcare, or peace building operations. And beyond that, I can honestly attest that I feel like my life is enriched for having cross-cultural friendships. I’m a better person for having people in my life, that I trust, who have a very different way of looking at the world. Through them, I get to experience a whole new dimension of everything. That makes my life here in Lesotho immeasurably richer and more meaningful… These friendships are possible because of the things that bind us as humans. They exist in spite of the things that set cultures apart.  That gives me faith.

With Love from Lesotho… –Mary E.

25 Surprising Things That Don't Surprise Me…

After living in Lesotho for 9-months, I am no long surprised…

1) When bo-Me decide to strip and bucket bathe in front of me.

2) When PCVs (including myself) use the "pee bucket" in a room full of people.

3) When I’m awoken by the sound of rats in the middle of the night.

4) By having to frequently kill thatch spider or throw rocks at aggressive dogs.

5) When Basotho warn me about witches or witchcraft.

6) When people ask me for lipompom (candy) or chalete (money.)

7) When men ask to marry me, tell me they love me, or proposition me for sex.

8) When bo-Me ask me if I know how to cook papa.

9) By the idea of my neighbors and friends being polygamists and/or adulturers.

10) By the reality that as many as half of my students are orphans.

11) By the amount that PCVs discuss bodily functions. :)

12) By the reality that, on a daily basis, I interact with people who have HIV, AIDS, and/or Tuberculosis.

13) When getting to a village or town means hiking up to 15km.

14) When taxi conductors cram 20+ people into a van.

15) By the high possibility that I could catch malaria or TB at some point in the next year.

16) By the concept of not bathing for a whole week.

17) When I have to drag my laundry down to wash in the river because there is, yet again, no water in village.

18) When I find out another 8th or 9th grader is pregnant.

19) When people stand 6 inches from my face and yell when simply saying hello.

20) When bo-Me tell me, with evident delight and admiration, that I am “fat.”

21) When I find severed cow heads lying around my host family’s courtyard.

22) By references to lebola (dowry/bride-price), traditional circumcision, or abductions/forced marriage.

23) When strangers yell "LEKHOOA!" as I walk by.

24) When visiting a friend means hiking up a mountain.

25) When I get sunburned in freezing weather.

Tis’ The Season!

Tis the season of winter in Lesotho...

Tis the season of cold..

Of shorter days and frozen nights.
Of frost-bitten fields, and snow-capped mountains.
Of paraffin heaters and Basotho blankets.
Of courtyard fires and chilly evenings.

Tis the dry season...

Of empty wells, slow pumps, and unyielding taps.
Of barren ponds and rivers run dry.
Of wind and dust,
Of clear blue skies and burning red sunsets. 

Tis the season of want...

Of empty bellies and hungry mouths.
Of rationed food and skeleton fields.
Of high gas prices and limited fire-wood.
Of cattle without grass and pumps without water.

Tis the season of unending work...

Of butchered lifereke (pigs) and likhomo (cattle).
Of bo-Me gathered to khotola.
Of sifting sorghum and grinding maize meal.

Tis the season of family...

Of caldrons of nyaikwe swaying over fire pits.
Of jubilant children free from school.
Of all-night prayer gatherings and all-day festivals.
Of song and dance and drums and life.

Tis the season.

With Love from Lesotho… –Mary E.

Snapshots from Swaziland!

Just a few pictures from my trip to Swaziland in April, 2013. Enjoy!

Our permatent at Lidwala Backpackers Lodge in the Ezulwini Valley. It was heaven to fall asleep next to a stream to the sounds of crickets and monkeys in the trees.

Will- Our fearless driver!

 

Now THIS is what a vacation should be… Poolside, under a mango tree with monkeys. :)

 

Amanda and I, tackling the Usutu River one km at a time!

 

Of our group, Will definitely had all the “natural-talent” for white-water rafting. Ha!

Team Will and Zoe!

The Class Five rapid that launched Amanda and I out of our raft, tried to drown us, and then forced me quickly downriver and nearly over a very terrifying waterfall! It’s Africa! It’s an adventure!

The whole gang with our guide, Beke! Ready to tackle the Class Five!

  

“We are Peace Corps Volunteers! We are African adventurers!”

Swaziland was breathtakingly beautiful!

 

Out for after-dinner drinks and desert.

 

Hand-painted scarves… The craft markets kept us women busy for days!

Touring the glass-blowing factory, and trying to resist craft shopping!

 

We basically ate our way across South Africa and Swaziland…
And it was heaven!

My favorite PCV couple: Will and Amanda.

Amanda has been known to love herself a dog or two!

The end of a lovely vacation in beautiful Swaziland!

The Best of Times. :)

“They were the best of times. They were the worst of times.”
- Charles Dickens

I think Dickens must have been a Peace Corps Volunteer. Or at least he knew a few… Because my life in Peace Corps is breathtakingly priceless, painstakingly frustrating, over-flowing with joy and laughter, full of disappointment and tears, absolutely rewarding, occasionally mundane, breathtaking when you least expect it, and confounding in it’s ability to teach you something new about yourself EVERY single day… And through it all, it’s the occasional, seemingly-insignificant gatherings, birthday celebrations, and chance-encounters with my Peace Corps family, that keep me going!

Beke e fetileng, ke ile ka itutha ho khotola le bo-‘Me’ ka Ha Selomo!

Last week, I learned how to khotola with the women in Ha Selomo!

It’s June in Lesotho, and that means one thing- Time to harvest maize! Basotho leave maize in the fields long into the dry, winter season to help it to dry thoroughly on the stalk, before harvesting… So while my students were busy revising for their winter midterms, the rest of the village took to the fields in droves to pick the dried maize (sheathed in razor sharp husks) by hand. Afterwards, the stalks are also cut down to the base by hand to feed to the herd-animals throughout the winter season. Every day, donkey carts of dried maize and empty stalks were hauled back to the village from the fields… And THEN the real work begins.

 

Khotola- a word for which there is no literal English translation- is the incredibly labor intensive process of scraping hardened kernals of corn from their cobs. Every single cob is done by hand by the village women who sit, hour after hour, masterfully separating these stubborn kernals. The end result, dried kernals, are then cleaned, and taken to the local mill (which we’re lucky to have right in our village!) to be ground into papa (maize meal). A decade ago, however, before the mill was built in Ha Selomo, the village women would have painstakingly ground every single kernal by hand between roughened stones until it was a fine white powder. To say it’s a laborious process, would be the understatement of the century… But in my little community of subsistence farmers, it’s a necessary part of ensuring that your family eats for the next year. And as I quickly discovered, the women all gather to pitch in and turn this necessary work into hours full of chatter and laughter.

When I first showed up at ‘Me’ Mantebo’s house, and told her I was there to help khotola, she almost died laughing. But her delight at my interest in Basotho culture was obvious and she and the other bo-Me quickly introduced me to the “art of khotola!” And believe me, it’s not as easy as it looks! Within my first hour, I had a bleeding gash on one finger and countless scrapes on the others. The women laughed and laughed in good fun at my inability to do what most Basotho girls can do from the age of five. :) But the truly priceless part of the day was not the massive pile of kernals we created or the sunburn and cut-up fingers I went home with… It was the new relationships I’d built with several of the bo-Me in Ha Selomo. Days like this are why I joined Peace Corps.

With Love from Lesotho… –Mary E.

Hiking, Hiking, Hiking…

I’m lucky to live in a country where I can wind-down, relax, and escape the occasionally “prying eyes” of village life by hiking! It’s become my new past-time, and I love exploring this gorgeous country! Ha Selomo is nestled in the Linakeng Valley, surrounded on two-sides by the Maluti Mountains… The vistas are gorgeous, the exercise is healthy, and the paths, trails, and unexplored mountains are limitless!

Here are just a few pictures of my recent hiking adventures in and around the Linakeng Valley. Enjoy!

My friend, Amanda, and I hiked to Ha Selomo Holimo (Upper Ha Selomo) on a recent weekend, and got gorgeous views of the Linakeng Valley, with the Maluti Mountain range in the distance.

Whoever said Africa didn’t have mountains, right?! Ha!

To the right of my head (in the distance) is my school, Linokong High School. To the lefthand side of the photo is my village, “lower” Ha Selomo. My host family and I live on the far outskirts of the village, along the ridgeline.

Hiking in Ha Leboea, Lesotho (a distant, neighboring village).

Zoe and I exploring! Always lots of hilarious antics, and aimless wandering when we pack up for an afternoon of exploring the Lesotho countryside!

Zoe was utterly confident that she could find our way back to the dirt road to take us back to Ha Selomo…. This was mere minutes before she nearly hiked us right of a cliff. But hey! It happens! Ha!

It was over the cliff or through the barb wire and past a hog… We chose the latter. :) It’s an adventure!

After a long day of hiking, we decided to unwind by introducing marshmallows to my Basotho host family and neighbors! They were SO excited!

Teaching ‘Me’ how to roast marshmallows! Yum!

My Basotho Host Family!
From Right to Left: ‘Me’ Mapoloko, Limpho (aka ME!), Makhoro, Lefanjane, Ntate Bereng, and a random Basotho man that I don’t know. Ha!