Story 1:
One day I was at my local shopong, and decided to buy 4 toilet paper rolls, instead of my usual one in awhile. A student sees me, and my purchases and says, “Sir, you eat a lot.”
Story 2:
I had a gigantic episode in my Form B (9th Grade) class. I dislike saying the word hate, but there are many students in their I would like to hire a hitman to do my bidding, also I think I hate them. Half the class are angels, smart happy cute kids who just want high fives and for me to tell them “Good Job!” But the other half, are vile creatures, constantly picking their noses and talking, passing notes and screaming and have ugly mean faces. I tried making them sit on the floor, making them do push ups, stand in the corner, do squats. I tried talking and reasoning with them. This time, I tried disappointment. I was in the middle of class teaching, no one paid attention. I then yelled, and told them that I will no longer be teaching, only writing notes and had a very somber face. I wrote notes as fast as I could, didn’t look one of them in the eye, any question was met with an ignored shoulder. I kept this up for two days. On the third day, another teacher said he needed to punish (beat) the boys in my class for misbehaving. I told him to not worry, I would handle it. I made the boys lie down on the ground (Basotho hate to sit, or even kneel on the floor) and I told them to go to sleep. They were furious. As I continued being a terrible teacher, I saw a lizard climb on one of the boy’s legs. A girl yells “Moholutsoane!” Every boy and girl screamed as loud as they could and ran outside, in the chaos people trampled each other, and the lizard, and all I could do was try to stare and act cold and bitter. I desperately wanted to laugh. After that day, the kids have been very nice, but also 10 of my students got moved to the new class we created to make classes smaller so I’m not sure if my punishments helped them to be better, or the fact that I have mostly only have the good ones left.
Story 3
An Immaculate Debate
Recently we had a school come for debate, they are called Immaculate HS. They have electricity, and a computer lab, and a science lab. There school is quite immaculate. They are a bit better off than us. But we had the debate of the century at Fobane HS. The topic for the older students was Should Lesotho be merged into South Africa, my Fobane students were given the agreeing side, while Immaculate was given the opposing side. Each side was so well prepared (I helped my side of course) and I was judging so I had to be fair (which I was). Left and Right there were interruptions, students yelling, “Point of Correction” and so forth. It was pouring rain, and the tin roofs were making so much noise, adding only intensity to the debate. At one point, a girl on the Immaculate side said, “South Africa’s economy is not as great as you are saying. People there come to Lesotho for jobs. Just look in front of you.” And she points to me. One of my favorite students, Cosmos, stands up and essentially says, “Screw you, He is American!” Everyone freaked out in the hall. That declarative sentence made my living in Fobane just instantly better. Although we lost that debate, I think my school officially won me over.
Recently, Worker’s day happened (May 1st) and what an amazing holiday that is. It was essentially an excuse for my fellow teachers and I to have a “booze cruise” on the way to Tsehlenyane National Park. Now, normally it would take me only three hours to travel to the park on my own, with slow public transport. Somehow, it took my teachers and I 61⁄2 hours to reach there. We were supposed to leave at 7am, and we left at 9am. Not too bad. We stopped every 10, 20 minutes because my teachers have the tiniest bladders known to mankind when they are drinking. Every time the car stopped, my teachers would leave the vehicle and “Fahla Moholutsoane” which is “blind the lizard” which is the way people say urinate here. After relieving themselves, we would all dance outside the vehicle for a good 5 minutes, I would learn a few Basotho dances, and then the teachers would leave to go buy more beer. I had no idea, that preparing my liver in college was the most appropriate thing to do to prepare for Peace Corps Lesotho, because it is a challenge to keep up with all my friends here. One time we actually drove for 40 minutes straight, but then I heard someone saying, “Shawn o hloka ho hlatsa.” I learned that to “hltatsa” means to vomit, so I quickly said I was fine, but apparently that was an excuse for everyone to again, leave the vehicle to pee and dance. Once we made it to the park, we were forced to pay 30 Maloti to enter. No teacher really wanted to, I didn’t either, but we travelled 6 hours I figured I might as well. I only make about 2000 Maloti here, or about $200 a month, while my teachers make 9000 Maloti a month. Somehow I paid to enter, but a few of them, and my principal escaped the fee and jumped the fence! They said it was too expensive for them to pay, but they bought more beer somehow. An enjoyable, crazy ride. But it was an amazing way for me to bond more with my teachers!
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