What I Love the Most.

Two weeks ago, the Peace Corps Lesotho family welcomed 26 brand new, friendly faces  to our Education program. Last week, while assisting with their training, I had the opportunity to meet them for the first time... They are all amazing people, full of enthusiasm and fresh personalities. Experience tells me that, before long, they'll be permanent members of our tight-knit Peace Corps Lesotho family. And apart from being fun, visiting my old village, Makola, watching them endure tediously long training sessions, and seeing their excitement mingled so intimately with fear and uncertainty, was also an incredibly enlightening experience for me. It reminded me of how far I've come in this journey. It made me thankful to be on the other side of my first year- an inevitable transition period where every day seems to bring some new challenge or roller coaster of emotions. The Lesotho I live in now is vastly different from the one I was thrust into during my own training... And while it was a memorable time in my Peace Corps experience, I wouldn't want to turn back the clock for anything.

Yet last week made me ask myself... Why has Lesotho so drastically changed for me? When did living here become "my life" here, and not just some wild adventure I was on temporarily? What makes this suddenly so normal? What has made this place feel like home?The answer came to me when Lisa, one of the new trainees, asked me, "What do you love the most about living in Lesotho?"

The question gave me pause... There are so many things about this country and culture that I love. It seemed difficult to pick just one. But then I thought back to the beginning of August, the first time when I really felt like my life here was my own. When I could honestly say that I didn't feel like a "Peace Corps Volunteer" anymore... I was simply, 'Me Limpho, the funny lekhooa teacher who bakes brownies for staff birthdays at school, loves to work in her garden, and gets frustrated with her Form D class all too often. I felt like me again. Just me in Lesotho. This was home. And suddenly I knew what had changed everything for me...

"The people." I replied, with a knowing smile. "My favourite part of living in Lesotho has been having personal, real relationships with Basotho... They've changed everything for me." And I knew it was true.

I knew that was the key to my being "at home" in Lesotho because...

When I make brownies for "staff birthdays" at school, they aren't just for anyone... Most recently, they were for my friend, Chris, who will randomly start singing an R&B song, and then still pretends to be shocked when I don't know the American artist... Ha! He likes to show up at my desk with a mockingly serious face and exclaim, "Yo! Holla atcha woman!" Which causes us both to erupt into laughter because, aside from his skin color, he could not possibly be further from the African American stereotype he sees on TV and tries to emulate. Despite growing up absolutely impoverished, "a young boy with no shoes" as he puts it, he dreams of getting a PhD in Environmental Studies... I call him "The Professor," and it's a nick-name he wears proudly.

And when I say I love to work in my garden, it's because I never seem to be there alone for long... My boys, Makhoro and Morena, always show up to help me. Their English is fabulous despite only being in Standard 7 in Primary School, and they're both incredibly bright boys. We love to watch movies and eat popcorn on Sunday afternoons... Their favourite Disney movies are always the ones with animals. :) And everywhere Makhoro goes, he takes his 3 year-old little brother, Mohalaka in tow... It's absolutely endearing to see him be so patient and nurturing with his younger siblings (of which there are many!) I know he'll be an amazing and attentive father one day; a true rarity in a culture where child-rearing is a "woman's work."

And when my Form D's get rowdy and loud, I don't even have to turn around to know who the culprit is... "Likhapha! Stop talking!" I shout for the umpteenth time, utterly exasperated. Giggles fill the classroom, as a guilty yet knowing smile creeps across her face. And when we're in Math class, and I ask them to solve for the final numerical solution, I'll hear a steady snapping start... Like rolling thunder, it's quiet at first, until the whole class is snapping in rhythmn. "Human calculator! Human calculator! Human calculator!" they chant, echoing my desire for them to do the multiplication or division in their heads quickly, without a calculator. They are each individuals now... When Limpho got the chicken pox, I noticed her absence. When Thabo got married, I knew. When Thembie lost her father, I mourned with her. I know their families, stories, villages, and dreams.

Coming home to my host family every night, stopping to talk to 'Me Moipone on my way home from the shopong, chatting with the taxi driver, Ntate Sello, about his kids on the way to town, or sending my friend, Phepheng, home with homemade fudge for her grandmother, 'Me Mapuleng, makes my life here richer. It makes me feel connected, settled, and safe. Content in a way that I didn't have last year as a new PCV. Every day isn't exciting and new, but I belong here now. My presence is expected in village, and missed if I'm away.

It's normal, mundane, and predictable... But it's home (for now, at least.) And THAT is what I love most about Lesotho.

With Love from Lesotho... -Mary E.