My very NEW life in Lesotho.

I have been in Lesotho for one month and five days. Thirty-eight precious days of my time as a Fulbright Scholar have passed. I am officially over jet-lag; no more 3 a.m. read-a-thons or mid-day bouts of narcolepsy. The “culture shock” and hyper-awareness of my surroundings- what little feeling of discomfort I did experience in readjusting- passed within a week. Ha Abia, the suburb/village outside the capitol city of Maseru where I now live with my best friend and her family, feels like home. People in the village recognize me. The fruit-seller by my busy taxi stand called me by name today when he greeted me. And, impressively enough, I now know all of the many taxi stops around the city. Hallelujah for mastering public transportation in the intimidating city of Maseru, where it always seems to be rush-hour and being hit by a taxi seems more like a real possibility than a statistical anomaly. Ha! Maseru is starting to feel like home. :)

I’ve settled into my NEW life in Lesotho. And it feels entirely NEW. This is an experience of Lesotho wholly unlike my life here as a Peace Corps Volunteer. Yes, I still occasionally bathe and pee in bucket (Note: Not in the same one. Ha!). But the latrine is a “throne” and the water pump is practically within reach of my bedroom window. :) I still take public transport, but the trip is short, down paved city roads, and only costs R6 (approximately $0.40). Bo-ntate are still… well… Bo-ntate. They still cat-call and will try their antics with anything in a skirt that moves, but the frequency is notably less than it ever was when I was living in Botha-Bothe. Seeing a white person, simply isn’t a novelty for people who live in the Capitol. I don’t get the same endless stares, or curious comments. I haven’t heard anyone yell, “Lekhooa!” in at least a week, which has to be some sort of Basotho record. :) I have easy access to hamburgers, real filter coffee, and cheese (Yes, that’s right everyone, there IS in fact cheese in Lesotho. Apparently it was all just being kept under wraps in the Capitol all those years! Ha!)

In addition, what I always suspected as a Peace Corps Volunteer, has officially been confirmed: Electricity has the ability to change your entire quality of life. :) It’s so nice to be able to actually SEE what I’m cooking at night, without first lighting 100 candles. No more stepping on dead rats for this girl! Can I get a hallelujah?! Ha! Want to read at 3 a.m.? No problem! Don’t want to eat moldy cheese? Sure! Who does? Just let me put that in the REFRIGERATOR. And don’t even get me started on what a luxury it is to be able to binge watch “The Office” on a rainy Sunday morning. Exhausted after eight hours of writing IRB proposals? No problem. Feel free to come home and curl up on the couch with your best friend to watch south African dramas. :) (Note: My intimate knowledge of the incredibly drama-filled lives of the characters of “Skeem Saam” and “Generations” officially scares even me. Ha!)

Have I mentioned how different my life in Lesotho is now?

But the changes that I love the most about my new life in Lesotho, are not material. Sure, electricity and cheese is great. But the truth is that the real change is something very simple: It is family.

Every night- after a long day of dusty roads, heckling men, and awkward stares- I come home to a family. For those who don’t remember, this is a new phenomena for me in Lesotho. I had two amazing host families during my time in Peace Corps: the Mothobi’s during my Pre-Service Training, and the Qoaqoa’s during my service. During my service, however, I didn’t live with either of them. Through a complicated family situation- which included my host father, Ntate Bereng, having two wives and thus two households- I never actually lived with a family in Ha Selomo. I lived alone on my compound, where my host father occasionally checked-in on me. My kids were my “family” in Ha Selomo. So unlike many Peace Corps Volunteers, I didn’t get the comfort and belonging of a Basotho family on a daily basis.

Now, however, that has all changed… Now I live with my best friend, Makabelo, and her family. They are my Lesotho family. Not a host-family that has temporarily adopted me. Not the kids who provide company and companionship, but whose conversations are limited to short sentences and single syllables. Not Peace Corps Volunteers who provide moral support over text, but you only see once every few months. They are family. This home feels like MY home. As in, messy hair when I wake up, don’t always make the bed, dishes sometimes sit in the sink, and some nights we just eat leftovers in front of the TV. It’s HOME. It feels comfortable. Easy. More than companionship or friendship; I am amongst family. There are no guests here. I don’t have to pretend to be Basotho, or try to stumble through conversations in two languages. I don’t eat lesheleshele, don’t iron my clothes, and I never shine my shoes… And guess what? No one cares. Last week, I got sick and Rich came home with apple juice and cooked me homemade soup. When the Ministry of Health threw my research timeline out the window and delayed my fieldwork by months, Makabelo was waiting with cold beers when I came home in tears. Most days, I beat Tumi, Rich, and Makabelo home from work… And Lilly and I meet on the path, walk home together, and share an afterschool snack. It’s nice. Simple. A small change in living environment that makes a HUGE difference in my quality of life. I can’t even describe how different Makabelo, Rich, Tumi, and Lilly (and even our hilariously funny cat, Max!) make living in Lesotho for me.

It’s an entirely new experience of Lesotho. One that makes me feel like I’m rediscovering this incredible country and culture. One that is giving me a renewed sense of love and belonging in this small corner of southern Africa. <3 p="">

With Love from Lesotho…. –Mary E.