The Good. The Bad. The Rat. The Ntate.

The Conversation

On the way back from TY, when I land at my stop I have a pleasant 45 minute walk to my house. Now usually I enjoy listening to my epic, relaxing music while whistling to myself but a ‘M’e who got off the taxi with me was in an awfully chatty mood which got me talking too. I was expecting the typical conversation, which is:

“Hello. How are you?”
“I am good and you?”
“I am well. Where are you from?” “Ntate Ntate Ntate”

This may be a grandiose fantasizing about the exchange, but it went more like this:

“Abuti, when you first came here, you were weak and scared.”
“Oh, yes ‘M’e”
“But now, you are strong, you are a man. You speak Sesotho. You know how to walk to TY. You are not scared. You are no longer the boy we saw last year.”
“Thank you ‘M’e.”
“You know Fobane. You are Mosotho. Now you are Ntate.”

This woman, in just a few sentences, encouraged me so intensely, during an especially offsetting time. She was right, she witnessed my transformation. I am not saying I have changed in personality, but my confidence at least within Lesotho and in travelling has transcended my original expectations.

And perhaps the following little, terrible annoyances and unfortunate hilarities that have recently plagued me can attest and validate the transformation this woman has seen in me.

The Rat

One day I had to poop. It was a bright, beautiful morning and I made my way for the outdoor latrine. Recently my father visited and encouraged me to buy a real toilet seat, and my latrine is pretty much brand new. I always consider my latrine situation to be pretty much 2nd world, which is all I ask and aim for. While sitting and doing my business (which usually I am mighty quick) a gigantic field rat scurried under my latrine door. I freaked out pants at my ankles rushing to try and open my door to exit. The rat jumped on my left ran around the seat approached me from the right and ran back out the door. I gave myself a quick wipe and pulled my pants back up and ran. I haven’t visited my latrine since.

The Flying Solar 

While working in my house with a few students on some maths (yes we say maths) problems on a windy day, my solar just leapt from the ground still attached to the car battery. It was as if there was a very small dense boxy child playing with a very heavy expensive rectangular kite. Then as I ran to attend the issue and bring in my “precious” the wires ripped off and the solar darted down towards the primary school. Luckily the wind died down and I was able to retrieve it and tend to its wounds.

The Taxi Door

While on my way back from TY, a motor commute of just about 15 minutes, the sliding door of the taxi (American large minivan) flew off while we were driving. We went back for it and quickly expunged the issue, but it was still quite an unexpected event.

Software Update

The ios7 update recently came out for the iPad and iPhone. Internet in town is generally good enough for things, but these updates are insanely big and blunderingly slow to download. While working on some kindle issues, my iPad update got all the way to 99%, and said processing. I was getting a bit excited, and suddenly the power goes out. When the power goes out, the modem and router go out. And that means the Internet. Which means, iTunes forces a re-download from scratch. I’ll update soon enough, and then learn what the real world is like!

The Haircut

The other day, I decided it was time to end my days as Rubeus Hagrid, and get back to my number 3 clean cut style that has permeated my being since senior year of high school. My hair wasn’t exactly terribly long, but it was long enough to the point where my students were confused as to why it was sticking out from all sides. They don’t exactly experience bed head, because they are forced to have a clean shaved head for school. So when one day I had to explain what bed head was, I realized that meant that my students now know that I do not bucket bathe every morning, even though I smelled tolerable in comparison to their constant quinching (farting).

In Hlotse (my camp town) I went to some random street barber, and although I have come across difficulties where the barbers usually don’t know how to cut lahooa (white person) hair, I figured most people would eventually figure it out. My haircut took a grand total two hours to complete. The barber was amazingly perplexed by what sat in front of him, and his clippers were so dull that they only tugged at the hair on my scalp. He could barely make a dent in my luscious locks when he took out an afro pick and sat my hair atop it and tried to shave off parts of my individual hairs that way. To his surprise this method proved fruitless. I knew it was just his clipper, and I kept telling him it was broken, but he disregarded my concern and tried for about 1.5 hours. I eventually paid him off 5 Rand for his dedicated service and ran to another barber. At this moment my hair was patchy on the top of my head and the sides were completely untouched. I had an elderly grandpa style hair cut, except instead of a nice smooth bald top, it was patchy and misshapen. I found a new barber, and told him if he can finish my haircut in 5 minutes I would pay him an extra 5 rand. He annihilated my originally invincible hair and gave me a perfect number 2 cut. He even adjusted my glorious widow’s peak. This man was a true hero.

These things have been quite fetter-some, but Peace Corps Volunteers prevail in the face of unworldly non-compliance, and now so do I.

Food Critic

Now that I have been a volunteer for just about a year, I have had a few too many opportunities (always for work) to visit the grand capitol of Lesotho. Maseru is a wondrous town filled with only the finest eateries known to Peace Corps Volunteer kind. My friends in Richmond have frequently mentioned how I should make a food/restaurant blog giving out my own opinions. Now that I am in Africa, for some reason this idea seems even more plausible. Therefore, this post will divulge into all the fine culinary establishments I have either heard of, or visited in Maseru.

Piri Piri          ✔✔✔✔✔

This is the restaurant all volunteers need to try. Whether you are visiting Maseru for the first time, or are a veteran explorer of the city, without a doubt all worthy people are encouraged to participate in what is personally considered the best place to eat in Maseru. Living in village, without a fridge or electricity, coming across delectable portions of meat can be tricky. The Portuguese steak for 110 Rand, is a steal to send your taste buds back to your favorite home-grown local steak house. Now I’m not one for a sauce on my steak, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. And make sure to get this steak as rare as you comfortably can. The pork chops were also cooked to perfection with a thick piece of succulent fat coating the sides. For those unimpressed vegetarians, where a steak may not be considered an option, the spinach was delicious. Desserts are certainly an option, where you can entertain your tongue with chocolate volcanoes to cool refreshing lemon cheesecakes. If you are looking for a change in your wining and beering, check out the different Mozambican varieties at this fine restaurant.

Please, try this restaurant. I would even consider it difficult to find food in America that could match the quality and perfection of the cooking found in Piri Piri.

Mimmo’s Italian Deli.    ✔✔

Now I am a critic of Italian restaurants in general. Most pastas are pretty replicable. This goes along with pizzas or most Italian concoctions. Although many volunteers think this restaurant is great, I will have to say che (no in Sesotho). If you want a real Alfredo, or marinara sauce visit Alyssa in Katse Dam. I got an Alfredo pasta, and it was essentially a soup. I even took the cream soup back home, thickened it up myself and made a better version of the attempted Alfredo. I have heard the pizza is pretty great, but I think if you want good pizza for your money, go to Romans in Maseru mall, where the pizza is saucy, cheesy, crusty, and a buy one get one free deal for each pizza. I do have to say that this restaurant has a very nice, homey appeal, and has a nice escaped feel away from the busy city. But food-wise, perhaps I will give it another chance, if I am in an adventurous mood. Regardless, being a volunteer cooking can sometimes be a drag. Half of the time we resort to eating quick non-messy foods like cereal (I reuse my bowl way too many times) and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. So even though Mimmo’s doesn’t exactly have your favorite pasta all’amatriciana (my favorite) its still amazing to go somewhere, and have a pseudo-olive garden experience after having been in village for far too long.

Café 72.     ✔✔✔✔

Located in what is racistly named (not actually) White City in Maseru, this restaurant offers a wide variety of refreshingly, impossible-to-find-in-Lesotho- cuisine. Yokels in America would call this a hipster meets classy restaurant. Its one of those restaurants you introduce your friends, and they think its going to be expensive because it says organic; or the kind of restaurant where your friends don’t believe you that this restaurant’s burger tastes better than their favorite McDonald’s one. The food is well proportioned and moderately priced. Iceberg lettuce isn’t even known at this restaurant, which can elaborate on how excellent the food is. I recommend a spiced hot chocolate, with its fragrances of nutmeg and cinnamon; your night is destined to be right. Bacon wrapped chicken, white fish marsala, nice looking burgers, etc. Although I haven’t been here for brunch, I know this place is the place in Maseru for it.

Fuli      ✔✔✔

Although I cannot attest for how amazing the Chinese Restaurant in Lesotho sun is (I’ve heard beyond grand things) this local, small Chinese, take-out, drunk-food restaurant is perfect for your wallet and your stomach. Fuli is located towards the Maseru South African Border, and is extremely cheap, quick, and delicious. Although sometimes the chicken can have an odd slimy texture, I would guess most times it would be on point. Only problem is, try not to order too much. It all sounds good, but I can guarantee you, it would be almost impossible, and uncomfortable to eat that much. It would be recommended that you order one or two dishes that way you can have leftovers and variety in your food. Definitely get the spring rolls.

Ocean Basket   ✔✔✔

Perhaps having been here for almost a year has eliminated my pickiness for sushi, but for a landlocked country in a drought and few rivers, Ocean Basket has some of the finest, freshest tuna and salmon known to PCV-kind. The wasabi is extra intense, and this restaurant even gives you bread with your sushi. Unique deliverance, means for an epic sushi luncheon. It's even pretty good for being a chain!

There are far more restaurants worthy of mentioning, and perhaps that will be in another food post in my blog. But since going to Maseru restaurants happen much rarer than I have elaborated, food for a PCV really is determined by how determined, and creative he or she can be. I left America with virtually no real cooking experience, and with a very critical appetite. I have learned so much from so many people, and have successfully made an astonishing amount of amazing food. Now I don’t know, with little over a year left, when I come back will I continue cooking or continue eating out two meals a day? 

Everything is food.