Sunday, December 23, 2012

Memorable Taxi Journeys

The interesting part of public transport in Lesotho is with the taxis, or takesis. It can be a large mini van, a venture (SUV sort), or some other form of larger than a car vehicle. There is a driver and a money collector and perhaps 7-10 limited seats. And unfortunately, in these vehicles, people try to bring many things back to their homes. The van gets crammed, more crammed than I have ever been in America, but still not terrible. You usually can still sit, without your butt having to be off an edge or on someone. The taxi gets quite hot, and Basotho insist on never opening a window. It is like sitting in a moving sauna, but grimier because people enjoy coughing on you, not into the window or into their hands, but they look at you, aim carefully, and then cough. I have definitely been exposed to a variety of people with TB, but lets just hope for the best that nothing has been contracted. In addition, people love to try to talk to Americans, the only problem is the driver blasts “Famu” music as loud as physically possible. The speakers are almost always blown, and rattle to the point where the not-majorly-enjoyable music is even less enjoyed. Famu music is with an accordion, sometimes electronic sounds as well, and its hard to really give more description because its just too loud to decipher. One time I tried to cover my ears, where I could still definitely hear the music, and everyone was wondering why I hated the music. They asked me, and since it was so loud I read their lips, and I just couldn’t get the point across that sitting under the speaker makes it very difficult for me to converse. They are very polite though; if you get a call the music gets so quiet. Maybe I should fake talking to someone on the phone?
Now come the interesting stories; the background information on taxis is now sufficient for these stories to make sense.
On the way to Mokhotlong for Site Visit:
One of the first experiences I had. It wasn’t really that bad, but I believe being of a smaller stature the drivers generally try to wedge me into places normal humans cannot fit. There were two very, very large Bo-‘M’e in the back of a venture. I could tell by the look of them that there was certainly a cloud of TB encapsulating them both. Somehow he made them spread just what I could tell as 6 inches across and I sat. Both were old, and fat. They had very stretchy saggy skin on their thighs that overflowed into my designated seat. When I sat, I felt as though I was slipping back and forth, on and off their slippery skin, my arms were pushed inwards into my chest cavity and somehow lodged in front. To this day I am not sure how my arms were not dislodged to get in that position or how I did not slip off my seat. It became so hot and humid in that confined area for 4 hours that I was forced into an unconscious state. Slept almost instantaneously. Woke up and there I was, in the camp town of Mokhotlong, drenched in grime and sweat but with no recollection of how much worse it could have been!
Now honestly, travelling by public isn’t terrible, or so I thought until I tried Christmas time travel.I was waiting in the taxi rank at 3pm. I had just bought a very elaborate painting of an African scene with photo-shopped animals all throughout the picture. It made me laugh quite a bit, so I felt it imperative to buy and hang in my home. Usually a taxi for Fobane is always there, but this time none appeared. It began to rain slightly, so I used my painting to cover my book bag, which contained my precious laptop and electronics. To make the time pass, I decided to relax under a tin roof of an open-air shack shop with many Bo-‘M’e (many ‘M’e’s or mothers, older women, etc.). It was about two hours and I was getting hungry, so I bought some plums (pronounced plooms here). I ate so many, and bought more to take back. Red plums: amazing. It was now 5:00pm, and I was getting worried because it takes an hour to get to my place and I wanted to be back before 7:30pm or dark.
Luckily, someone from my village showed up, Ntate Chaps. He decided to wait with me because he too was trying to get home. A car then showed up at about 6:00pm. As soon as I picked up my painting, the hatchback trunk of the venture flung open, and about 10 people rushed and climbed over each other to get in. It reminded me of Black Friday where people have died in Walmart. Ntate Chaps pushed me back so I wouldn’t get mangled. I decided, its better to wait for the later one with my fellow colleague than try to fight for a spot. But this car did not leave for another hour for some reason. And in that hour, I found out a young boy whom I am a friend with told the driver I am not to be travelling at dark, and that I must go in this venture. Well, neither of the women would leave their spot, and I don’t blame them. Somehow the driver opened the trunk again, where the winners of the earlier tussle were sitting crammed more than even I thought possible after having travelled by taxi before. I literally did not see even a sliver of space. One woman held a gigantic box full of items, onions, toys, etc. Under the seats were super maize meal and flour. A 14-year old child was sitting on another woman, and the other woman was holding gigantic plastic bags, and mind you this is only the trunk. In addition, the trunk also contained another man with beads in his hair with a 14kg gas canister and another woman whose arms were lodged up in the air as she was texting. The driver told me to get in. And I looked puzzled. So I asked, what about my bag and my painting? So he took them and gave them both to random people in the car in the front. The painting was lodged right behind the driver, so he was forced to drive without putting his head back. My laptop bag, I had no idea, and I was quite concerned.
He came back, and said get in. So I was still confused, because there literally was no space. He told me to sit on a woman’s lap, a very elderly fat woman, who was patting her thigh and smiling as indication for, “please sit my child.” Ntate chaps helped push my body into this monster of a situation, so I did what I did and sat on her lap. He tried a good 4 minutes, and eventually closed the trunk door. And we were off. I had maybe 1.5 feet of space for my upper body so I was well bent over into the face of the child. She smiled, and coughed, so I smiled, and thought about my Vitamin C pill back at home. The main road back to my home has the deepest potholes, so we swerved back and forth for about 30 min. Meanwhile I noticed a Donald Duck sticker who was giving the middle finger back at me, and everyone kept asking me my name and complimented me on my Sesotho. I was relieved when the music turned on and it was smooth jazz at a tolerable volume. I periodically stood off the woman and pressed myself against the trunk door, which I could feel opening at times. After about 45 minutes we were now on the bumpiest of roads so the knee of the woman began to hurt while my left leg lazily slipped into a numbing slumber. My precious plums had crushed on the leg of the little girl underneath the box of items. I am fortunate, that it did not crush on me I do have to say. We got to the first stop by the end of the hour, and the woman whose lap I intimately got to know was attempting to leave the car. Problem was, the door now was jammed, and only my hand was able to move in the position appropriate to open. I had no room to reach my hand their, but somehow my flexible elbow bent in a way I think only Guinness Records could surpass, and I gave the handle a turn and a shove and after numerous attempts it sprang open with a rush of cold air entered the bacterial sweaty air I had been inhaling. Luckily lap-woman had the most things, and the car was emptied of the gigantic items. I ran to the front of the car to look for my fragile bag, which was crammed into the floor space of another woman, so I retrieved it to salvage the electronics. We rode comfortably back home, and left the vehicle. My painting still in tact and computer functioning at peak possibility. Christmas is a crazy time here, but the stories I gain from every uncomfortable situation make it just that much better.

I am currently updating this post while in a taxi. It broke down and we are waiting crammed together for it to work. Then I just saw a man driving while reading a magazine. This country so far cannot cease to surprise me.
Later I will be posting about the best mode of transportation in Lesotho, luxury hitches.
Happy Holidays! I know I am enjoying them, even though Summer during Winter is oddly confusing.



Friday, December 21, 2012

Moments and Observations: A Makola Story

I understand the end of the world is quickly approaching, and therefore I only have such a short time to further explain the training in this early part of my Peace Corps time.
There are a few things I believe I have missed about training in Makola and some general first impression observations of Lesotho. It will be addressed in the following list which I slowly generated every day over the past weeks. I enjoy listing details, it is much easier to read and follow.
• A baby chicken enters my room and leaves on its own regard. I don't think it understands that it is meat.
• A little boy, we named swag, literally is the essence of what all great American
rappers strive for.
• The food is heavily carb based, but peanut butter is the cure to that. They eat
a lot of Papa, which is mashed up corn meal and boiled water. Not my thing, and when I tell the Basotho I dislike it, they scoff and are astonished. They don't know what I eat.
• I try not to take too many pictures, or I am discreet with my camera, because
everyone asks for you to “shoot them,” and then they swarm your camera to
see what the picture was. Then they want it again. Not dangerous, just inconvenient.
• Bucket bathing, is pretty easy. And I feel very clean! Just kind of burn myself
often with the boiling water. I am too impatient to get more cold water to
mix or to wait for it to cool.
• First week I was asked to be married to someone’s daughter. They tried
twice. They are really nice though. Maybe my plan B.
• I am certain Basotho dream of eating sugar straight up and salt injections.
Every Basotho person I see uses about 4 spoons of sugar in small cup of tea,
and I think if salt water fish were to eat the food, they would die of dehydration. Some of the food is great though, like the carrots and beets!
• My family expects me to polish my shoes and iron my clothes often. Luckily
they are taking care of that for me...
• I threw a Frisbee, hit a 7-year old in the neck/face. No crying. Also no parents
so I was relieved. Then I did it again. Different child. Still on accident. I was
less worried that time.
• Shaving without a mirror is less accurate than I anticipated, also, I have a
tetanus shot so I wasn’t worried to get lockjaw.
• When hiking I was playing with a stick and it dropped on a littler girl’s head.
She was mad and I tried to say I was sorry, instead I said “ke thabile,” which
means I am happy.
• Washing clothes is not something I ever got the hang of, definitely paying someone. Contributing to
the Economy!
• My family calls me Ntate Peanut Butter, by week 2 I have gone through 4 jars
of peanut butter. They were amazed when I put peanut butter on an apple. Mind blown. Later between two slices of bread. Even more so.
• Fat cakes, or makoanyas are delicious fried bread. Peanut butter, or nutella
as toppings, it’ll be easy to regain that weight I lost!
• My solar book bag is the smartest thing I ever brought.
• The more I sweep, the more dust comes in my home, it is a battle I will never
win. I would polish my shoes daily, more so because my family would force me, but they would be just as dirty 10 feet from my home.
• Getting sick, sucks. All I could think was: I want a normal toilet. And a big screen tv.
• Little kids always want to hold hands. I choose wisely as to stay away from
the ones with dried boogers and general gross ones. I also use hand sanitizer
often. Although there are some extraordinarily cute ones I chase after to hold their hand. I'm not a creep. It's not creepy here.
• Taxis are very crowded, but being smooshed between two largely
proportioned Basotho women somehow lulls you into a very nice, comatose state. Next thing you know, you are where you need to be, rested, and sweaty. And when you aren't asleep, you can give a clever elevator (or taxi) speech on why you are here all in Sesotho and see how amazed they are with you!
• Seeing a shower and electricity are very exciting things. If you are around other Americans, make sure to dash for the outlets.
• I didn’t know until I came here, but I am often caught talking about shorts,
and wearing shorts.
• Shooting stars are amazing. So legit. Stargazing is probably the best thing to do at night, especially here where you can see everything. We also have Orion down here (kind of lost a bet)
• We asked our Sesotho Teacher, if you had a lot of money, where would you
travel and why? She responded, to America, to kill Mike and Shawn. We are her favorites.
• When running in the early morning, or at night I always carried a rock. Very fearful of dogs. They are so nice during daylight, and turn zombie scary at dark. But if you bend down they run away faster than they originally ran towards you. It's the tease of grabbing a rock that frightens them really.
• Basotho think it is hilarious that Americans bring their dogs inside or pet it.
• During our time at the Hub, cookies and fruit were often provided. It was sometimes a mad dash for the specific ones, but I generally went more for quantity rather than quality. Record: 14 cookies and 5 apples/bananas. A great day!

Makola was a great place, and I am already excited to return to it for a week in my Phase III training. To swing by the constantly dancing shop keeper (still don't know his name, even after all the peanut butter I bought, and the makoanyas). Perhaps going back to having my 'M'e laugh at how I wash my clothes, my sister asking to play more sudoku (she got really good). Hopefully by then I can pronounce the clicks in the q's of this language and then they don't have to correct me constantly on my faulty pronunciation.

Now that training Phase I is over, and I'm surviving Phase II in wonderful Fobane, I will be posting hopefully more regularly during this more relaxed phase of my Peace Corps Life.
Things are getting real!







Wednesday, December 19, 2012

From America to Onwards

I distinctly remember being at the JFK airport in my appropriate terminal where 30 of us were enjoying our last American moments. I had 15 minutes to boarding where I made my last calls, and received some too. I was scampering around the airport looking for what I thought was going to be my last American meal. What a stressful time it was, getting off the phone with Juhee who was tearing, made me tear up. Luckily I manned up and fought that off. And with all that stress I was somehow able to sleep almost the entire 15-hour flight to Johannesburg. Then from Jo-burg to Maseru was just another hour. But suddenly we were plummeted into the very country we were to be serving for the next two years. But yet still nothing really hit. The moment was essentially surreal, perhaps through exhaustion of having slept too much or having not eaten enough meat in that limited scope of time. Regardless, we were picked up at the Maseru Airport, off into a large 22-seater van (I think 22) to our respective villages. With no idea of where I was, and just looking out the window, looking for electrical lines and water tanks, seeing people peeing on the street (awesome by the way), we somehow made it onto a bumpy road. Suddenly the car was swarmed and chased by a hoard of children all yelling and smiling. (Now I think they had said the white men have come, but I guess I will never know)
We leapt from the car to see the entire community of Makola staring, smiling, and screaming (that really cool tribal screaming). They sat us on a line of chairs and performed dances and songs I have only seen through YouTube. Then they announced the pairing of Host Mother to Volunteer. My Host Mother, or ‘M’e, was oddly quieter compared to the others, but still brimming with happiness. She made my host sister, my ausi, and another boy lug my luggage while I carried little to nothing. I held onto my computer bag though, I wasn’t going to let that go, not just yet. I was now separate of the other volunteers, in what seemed the dead of night (7pm). With no sense of direction I was eventually plopped into my room, where my host Mother, ‘M’e Matebello, quickly showed me how to prepare my bed for sleeping, and make my bed in the morning when I were to wake. She demonstrated how to use my paraffin lamp, and how to boil my water with the stove for bathing. I just nodded and agreed. Luckily for me, my host sister, MaPheko, is absolutely brilliant and for her age great at English, re-explained ‘M’e’s directions in a more understandable fashion. They left me alone, and I sat on the bed thinking, I am here, what now?
Now, the fun began. Training. Well, Training Phase I. Now I know there are technically 3 Phases of training, but Phase I is a big hurdle. About 30 individuals, including myself, were subjected to what some (or I) might say an epic 9-week ordeal. Most of everyday, we would meet at the Church, also known as the Hub, for our day of lectures, team building, and participatory learning activities on safety, security, rules, regulations, and the general know-how on being a good volunteer. Also, just now, killed a wasp. Frightening to see it enter my home, but I did it. Towel, bug spray, and a shoe. Towel for protection. My shield. Continuing. While the days were a bit dry but informative, and mildly entertaining during times when a key few of us were disruptive, the mornings were generally filled with Sesotho Lessons, my favorite part of the day. Sesotho is an amazingly fun language to learn, and perhaps it is because our language teachers were themselves so amazing and fun. I would wake up at 5am, and have so much time before class started at 8am. Waking up at 5am here is very easy. Roosters crow anytime they want to, and you sleep so early, by grandpa 8pm time, that waking up so early is just easy. During training, we learned that Basotho love to sing and dance, and do it well without any formal training. They taught us many songs, which I don’t know any of the lyrics now, or even then. Kinda just mumbled my way through the bass parts.
Part way into our training, we left for host visits where I travelled to Mokhotlong, escorted by current volunteers of course. Learned, or briefly encountered what it was like to be a volunteer, and in a region so high up and so cold. Mokhotlong is one of the farthest regions in Lesotho from the capital Maseru. It’s a beautiful area and I would have been happy to live there, just very cold. Going on the host visit, you learn a sense of how volunteers are, how they cope, and how they enjoy their time and small victories they accomplish while volunteering under the Peace Corps. Thinking about volunteering and then seeing someone actually doing it day in and day out are very separate things, and it was inspiring to see Katie Buechel work tirelessly for her community and school. It made me even more excited to finish training and get to my spot. Luckily a few weeks later we were assigned our sites; after I requested a site with excellent cellular coverage. We visited our respective sites, met our colleagues and supervisors and a few villagers. The Peace Corps Staff is extraordinarily accommodating, and somehow, so far at least, I have been placed perfectly appropriately in Fobane, a large complex of villages located in the Leribe District. So far, perfect cellular, and great wireless edge data! But I will talk about Fobane in a later post.
I really enjoyed living with my host family for two months, and they gave me a name I will always keep. Tebatso. Also, our last name is Mapiloko. Tebatso means “to forget” and the reason I was named as such was because my host mother lost her daughter just the month before I arrived. She was devastated, and with my coming she said gave her hope. She wants to forget the bad, in hope for the future.
Going into this next phase of Peace Corps and life, I certainly don’t want to Tebatso anything. Life has been swell.





Monday, October 8, 2012

It's Starting to Hit Me

Although I am very excited to start my journey, I can't help but begin to think of the things I will be missing in the coming years while I am away from the states. I will definitely be missing weekly sushi, and most of all random epic restaurants. I will miss grilling, and definitely driving my very powerful yet eco friendly Prius. I will miss driving with my knees in EV mode blasting folk-indie songs under 25mph. I will miss free monthly Godiva, being down for whatever, and random ways to waste/spend money. I will miss lots of bojangling and excessive inapropriate jokes and actions. Most of all, I will miss the people I have done all these things with. And in honor of the people I will be missing, I wanted to share their pre-departure thoughts with me that have surfaced through loving text and Facebook messages:

  • I think that fortune teller was wrong...gonna get yourself hitched in Lesotho!
  • Stay Safe in Africa! Do good.
  • Good luck being African. And making a difference in the world. And powering things with your solar powered backpack. You can be solar man for halloween.
  • I thought you had left already. Party!
  • Maybe I'll get you an inflatable Indian girl. Therefore you will never feel alone or...Lonely...
  • Avatar is def inspiration
  • Don't get arrested, deported, or make any enemies :P
  • I miss you so much it hurts
  • I miss our mini adventures and I am soooo nervous!!
  • Africa will be an experience...A lot of bucket showers and food poisoning haha
  • If you get bit by a snake do not cut or suck the wound, do not elevate the wound, keep it below ur heart.
  • Use your allergen to latex as your AIDS prevention talking point.
  • Get one for Africa so we can see u from fucking space
  • The answer to all of ur questions should be...I'm going to Africa in a week.
  • Poor David, now he is gonna get the full force of nagging and complaining, we are gonna drive him crazy while you're gone. :)
  • Be safe and have fun man, love you no homo.
  • Who knows when you'll decide to return from Mother Africa.
  • I had to leave quickly cuz i wouldve cried hehe.
  • I am most fucking definitely comin to your going away party. 
  • By the time you get back the world might be running on some sort of alternative fuel source...but prolly not...
  • No sex with the locals.
  • Just do some crunches while in Africa. There's always the floor lololol
  • I won't b a tease on our last night (that sounds reallllly gay) lol
  • Look at pic 105 from last night. That is my goodbye.

Pic 105

Thanks everyone for the words of encouragement and I hope to talk to you all soon! Just one full day at home left!

Monday, October 1, 2012

Lesotho 101

July 23rd I had a four minute conversation with my Dad around 5:00am in CancĂșn, Mexico. He told me I would be leaving October 12th for Lesotho in Southern Africa. Although I was excited, I like most people had never heard of Lesotho.

Here is what i have learned since then:
          Cautionary Discretion: Some of these facts could be wrong, but I guess I won't know until I am there!

20 Facts of Lesotho
  1. Lesotho roughly translates to the land of the people who speak Sesotho. Therefore, Basotho (people of Lesotho) speak Sesotho. Also English is the 2nd Language. 
  2. Lesotho is about the size of Maryland, and landlocked within South Africa with about two million citizens. 
  3. Lesotho has the highest low point of any country in the world, therefore it is quite mountainous and perhaps I will become an avid marathon runner when my lungs adjust.
  4. 24% of the population is afflicted with HIV/AIDS and life expectancy is about 48 years.
  5. Peace Corps volunteers can get pretty good cellular access and internet on their phones. (really hoping this is true for me)
  6. Lesotho can range from 86°F in the summer to 0°F in the winter and because it is south of the equator, the seasons are flipped. 
  7. Unemployment rate is 45% although a lot of Basotho are subsistence farmers and practice animal husbandry. 
  8. The Peace Corps says it can be difficult for vegetarians to find food in some parts of Lesotho. (very excited for this)
  9. Lesotho produces 90% of its own electricity and provides electricity to parts of South Africa.
  10. In Maseru, the capital, there is a KFC, Sushi restaurant, and an Italian pizzeria.
  11. Lesotho has kept generally close ties to Ireland. Dangerous Alliance. 
  12. Basotho dress extremely well. Time to up my game. Girls often wear high heels.
  13. Lesotho has an 82% literacy rate and females have a higher literacy rate than males.
  14. Peace Corps has had volunteers in Lesotho since 1967 with a brief intermission in 1998 due to political uprising. 
  15. 49% of the population is under the poverty line.
  16. Traditional Basotho homes are round houses (rondavels) because locals believe evil spirits can hide in the corners. 
  17. Children's classrooms can be up to 75 students. 
  18. No malaria! Due to its high altitude tropical diseases are insignificant although waterborne diseases can be prevalent. Hopefully I have eaten enough clementines in my life to sustain a robust immune system. 
  19. Afriski is one of the best ski resorts in Africa and even the world. Located in Lesotho it flourishes with tourists and backpackers every year. 
  20. Lesotho is the Kingdom in the Sky.