My cat, Pina, has now graced me with several litters of kittens. For all intensive purposes, she's a veritable feline-producing machine. Ha! And obviously, I can't complain... I mean who doesn't just LOVE the idea of having 3 fuzzy bundles of kitten nestled in your bed, and tumbling around your house. They've been delightful! Yet every time Pina has kittens, I have to face the stressful prospect of finding them homes.
And it's not a difficult task to find willing owners- many Basotho love cats and appreciate them for their "rat-killing" abilities. Finding a GOOD Basotho home, by American standards, is another thing. I want homes that I know will feed the kittens, and make sure they have shelter during freezing weather. And this is a tough request...
So when my dear friend Makabelo complained about having a mouse problem in her new house, and I had a house full of kittens, it seemed like an ideal match! Only one problem... Makabelo lives in Maseru, nearly 5 hours away from Botha-Bothe.
Yet as a testament to our friendship and my desire to find good homes for the kittens, I packed my bags, and stuffed a cat in a box. :)
It. Was. Miserable. From the moment, that kitty was stuffed in the cardboard box for the five-hr trip on PUBLIC transport, it yowled like I was trying to murder it. I'd say poor thing, but I honestly felt much more mortified for myself. I hate public displays and drawing attention- And this, in a country where I draw a considerable amount of attention by just STANDING on a roadside. Now add a yowling cat in a box, and I'm a walking lekhooa comedy act. I was in hell.
But I put on a smile and whipped out my Sesotho... As we sat on the village taxi, I apologized and attempted to laugh off my yowling feline friend with comedy... "Ke soabile, bo-Me! Motsoalle oa ka o batla catz, empa o lula Maseru! Pephi! Catz e lerata haholo! Tola! Tola, catz!" (I'm so sorry, mothers! My friend wants this cat but she lives in Maseru! Sorry! This cat is so loud! Shhh! Shhhn, cat!"
Bo-Me LOVED it. They ate it all up. They just laughed and laughed and laughed. And in that moment I found a new reason to love Basotho, just a little bit more. Not one person shot me an angry or irritated look. Despite my mortification, not one person judged me. Things happen. Noise happens. Akward situations with animals on public transport happen, and it's just a part of life. An American would have demanded I get off, bo-Me just chuckled and started asking me questions. In fact, when the taxi later got a flat tire on my dirt road and we all had to get out and start walking, bo-Me grabbed the box and merrily started juggling it between themselves- helping to carry my loud, obnoxious screaming box of cat. It was yet another testament to the spirit of community that is so special in this culture.
And once on the taxis- of which there were many between my little village in northern Lesotho and the capital- taxi drivers could not have been less concerned or troubled. Yowling cat? No problem! Just pump up the famu music! I never, in all of my years living in Lesotho, throught I would EVER be tolerant of, no less THANKFUL for blaring famu music. But in that moment, I was! Halleleujah for bo-Ntate and their famu music! :)
The cat made it to Maseru safely, and now lives a life of true luxury for a Basotho cat. Tumisang, Lily, and Kabelo named her Kitty, and she gets spoiled with milk, meat scraps, and living inside the house. So the trip turned out to be worth it in the end, and everyone lived happily ever after.
And I was given just a few more reason to be thankful for the small kindnesses of strangers. :)
With Love from Lesotho…. Mary E.
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