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.