Friday, December 20, 2013

The Journey Back Home

On Dec 4th it became official; I had finally received my "R."

For a PCV, getting your "R" consists of signing a few pieces of paper, shaking a few hands, and leaving the Peace Corps office for the very last time knowing you'll never be going back again.  "R" stands for "Returned" and from that moment on I was no longer just a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) but an RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteer).   It's actually a bit anti-climatic that it felt surreal until I was on my way home.

Many RPCVs have a COS (Close of Service) trip to not only celebrate no longer being in Peace Corps but to also spend some of the readjustment allowance Peace Corps gives us at the end of our service.  A few friends and I went to Madagascar.  While I enjoyed the trip I couldn't wait for it to be over and to finally, after 26 months, to go home.

Being home is hard but it's getting easier every minute.  It took about a day to actually "feel at home" and there are still many things I need to adjust to.  Like having internet on my computer; I'm used to doing everything on my phone.  Or how fast internet is here.  And how mentally I'm still making a list of all the things I have to do when I'm online.  (Okay, I should stop talking about computers and the internet.)  I also need to get used to talking about my PC experience in the past tense...

I feel this is a good time to say a few thank you's to everyone who has supported me during the last 26 months.  I'll say it again for the last time, Peace Corps has been the loneliest two years of my life and even the littlest of things made my day such as liking my posts on Facebook.  It may seem like a trivial thing to some of you but to me it showed that you were still interested in me and what I was doing and that meant the world.  I want to say thanks to the friends who wrote me post cards and stayed in touch through email and Whatsapp.  And to those who inquired about me through parents and other relatives, your words may not have reached me but I still want to say thanks for remembering me.  I can't say this enough but I wouldn't be here with out all of your love, thoughts, and prayers.

I also think it's time to say good-bye to this blog.  It's time to say "so long" to Lesotho and this adventure.  This is not to say that there will not be new adventures in the future but those belong to a new blog.

So, sala hantle (stay well) Lesotho and Africa.

Khotso (Peace), Pula (Rain), Nala (Prosperity)

Aparna

Tsamaea Hantle (go well) Madiba

On Dec 5th 2013 Nelson Mandela took his last breath and left this Earth.

This was a day that was bound to come soon but when it happened I was shocked especially since I was still in Africa (actually South Africa) on that date.

I have not been staying up to date with current events but I was well aware of the stories surrounding the first President of South Africa.  For months Mandela had been in and out of the hospital (this I am sure you all knew).  You may have even heard some drama surrounding his family and grandchildren.  What you probably did not hear was all the rumors running around South Africa during these months.  No one really knew exactly how sick Nelson Mandela was so people first speculated that his family was trying to keep him alive until his 95th birthday.  It passed.  Then people started saying that the ANC (African National Congress, Mandela's party) wanted him to be alive until the next election for his endorsement.  I also heard from some South Africans that rumor had it that the father of the nation had already passed but the family didn't want anyone to know.  It's really quite sad hearing all the things people were saying.

I was in South Africa the night he passed and I woke up on the morning of the 6th to a continuous news cycle of Madiba's passing and life story.  It was interesting seeing the report on a local South African station which spoke about how he was raised, his involvement in the ANC, and his personal life, and CNN's report which spoke about his time in Robben Island, ending apartheid, and being a father to a nation.  Let's just say that South Africans and Americans have very different views on Nelson Mandela's life.

In July I was in Pretoria with a few friends and we decided to visit Pretoria Heart Hospital where Nelson Mandela was staying at the time.  There were many people there including police and press.  People were leaving cards, posters, and flowers.  In honor of his passing I wanted to share a few of these photos with you.
There was press everywhere just waiting for some news








Monday, December 2, 2013

Farewell Ausi Neo Mokote

On Thursday November 28th my school threw me a farewell party.  They invited the school board, some teachers from the primary school, the local elected official (who I hadn't met till that day) and the village chief (who didn't show up).
The event was very beautiful with speeches done by the board, my teachers, principal, host family, the politician, and lastly myself.  Tears were shed, songs were sung, and to finish it off they had prepared a vegetarian friendly lunch.

Here are a few pictures from the event:
The snack tray to snack on during the program

Salad, chakalaka, and custard

Food and drinks, and don't forget dessert

The staff room was rearranged to make it more festive

My host mother and I

My plate of food

A gift from my colleagues.  It's an outline of Africa with a woman grinding maize in to flour.

Everyone at the event signed their name on the back

A decorative plate (with a stand) of the founder of Lesotho, King Moshoeshoe I

Another decorative plate with King Moshoeshoe I, his descendant King Moshoeshoe II and his son and current king of Lesotho, King Letsie III 



Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Because We All Love Little African Children

Every year Lesotho has a Cultural Festival held in a small community outside of Maseru called Morija.  There's dancing, singing, food, and art.  Last year I went with my school who was competing at the festival.  This year I decided to stay the whole weekend to see the festivities.

On Sunday, September 29th the festival program was the likonyana (di-kon-ya-na), or pre-schoolers', dance competition (Saturday was the high school competition, Friday the primary schools).  My friends and I laughed imagining little Basotho kids "dancing;" crying, picking their nose, just standing in place instead of dancing.  Boy, were we wrong.

The dances were spectacular, the discipline of the kids exceeded the high school students' and there was no fear on their faces.  We took videos and stayed for the whole event.

I wanted to share these videos with you all.  I've spoken about traditional Basotho dances before but these are just so adorable!  After all, who doesn't want to watch cute, little, African children shaking their boo-tays?

Ndlamo
Ndlamo is a male dance with a lot of kicking.  To be honest I have seen better Ndlamo dancers (granted they were done my adult men who are professionals) but it's still sweet to watch these boys try so hard.


Mohobelo
This is another dance done by males.  This was the last dance of the day and these boys were tired from rolling around on the dirt the whole morning.  I've seen this dance done with sticks with reflective surfaces and it's amazing to watch.


Litolobonya
I've uploaded a video of this dance in a previous post but these guys were so good (especially the tiny girl in front).   Besides, I've always felt this dance is a little girl's dance.


Mokhibo
I showed this video to my colleagues are they were shocked at their co-ordination and poise.  This group was my favorite the whole day.
 

A little history on these dances.  Back in the day women would never perform these dances in public; they were done behind closed doors when women would get together for some fun.  In fact, my teachers tell me, that if they caught a man trying to sneak a peak, they would catch him and strip him naked (traditionally these dances would be done topless).

I am Not My Hair...or am I?


For those who have not heard (which I would think are very few of you), I shaved my head in January 2012.  I had always wanted to do it; ever since I heard India Aire’s I am not my hair on the radio, I felt inspired to truly get rid of the damn thing.  That’s right, I have not been on good terms with my hair.  In fact, it took me a long time to accept that I wasn’t going to have the stick straight hair that I saw on TV and that the hairstyles I wanted were just not going to work out.  And once I accepted my curly hair fate I still struggled to just figure my hair out.  Some of you may understand this story, and some of you may not.  But when I heard India Arie belting out how she struggled with her own hair I felt a connection and all I wanted to do was to get rid of it.
But as we all know wanting to do something is quite a bit different from actually doing something and it didn’t really happen.  To be honest, I didn’t want people to get the wrong idea for the reasons I was hairless.  But when I came to Africa where shaving your head was acceptable and common I knew I had to do it or I’d have missed my chance.
And so I did.  A fellow PCV who had shaved her head a while back cut my long locks and I went to a little tin hut of a barber shop to get it all evened out.

And It. Was. Amazing.

I felt so free.

That didn’t mean there weren’t times where I desperately missed my hair.  Not having hair, I learned, made me feel naked and exposed.  I couldn’t hide behind my previously long, thick, locks anymore.  And a part of me felt insecure and less feminine since I couldn’t spend 30 minutes dressing my hair up.  And while many of my friends told me how I “rocked the look” I had to get over my insecurities and flaunt my head proudly.
Now, my hair is longer than when I left for Africa.  A part of me wants to shave it off again; a shaved head is so much easier to manage.  But I love having hair, I love spending time on it, and I love styling it however I want.  So, at the end of this journey I’m not sure if I can proudly scream out that “I am not my hair” but it was still fun.

So let's start at the begining:

This was my hair when I first got to Lesotho.

January 2012: This was my hair after I first shaved it.  I didn't want to shave it completely off since I'm pretty sure the top of my head is bright white and, with the Lesotho sun, is a perfect recipe for a bad sun burn.   This is the last time my hair touched a pair of scissors or any cutting instrument.

March 2012: My hair was definitely growing and it was in the "can't do anything even if you wanted to" stage.  A friend saw this picture and said I looked like Halle Berry; and so I call this the "Halle Berry" stage.


 June 2012: This was probably the most awkward stage of my hair: mullet hair.  It was long enough to keep my head warm in winter but not long enough to style.  The nice thing was that I was beginning to get my curls back!

July 2012: By July my hair was long enough to be styled Basotho style.  Basotho call this styling technique "braiding with yarn" but it's not actually braiding.  My host sister spent hours wrapping portions of my hair in black yarn and then connecting them to make a design.  This hair style lasted about 4 days.

October 2012: By this point my hair was curly and long enough to put some product in.  To be honest I miss my hair at this length.  Easy to manage yet looked pretty good.
November 2012: Getting a little longer and curlier (this was my visa photo for my South African visa).

 December 2012: In Capetown and my hair was long enough to blow in the wind!  It was also long enough to do french braid pig-tails.











March 2013: At this length my hair could once again become ridiculously messy (though still relatively easy to de-tangle).  I could also put into a ponytail.

April 2013: At this length my hair styled in to very pretty cascading curls.  This photo was taken at a school event in town.

July 2013: By July my curls loosened up a bit to give me more length.  The nice thing about shaving a curly head is that curly hair looks great in layers and that's exactly how my hair is now, tons of tiny layers.

October 2013: My hair is now longer than when I shaved it.  I can style it tons of different ways though with the limited water (which means I wash my hair once a week) I usually put it up in a ponytail or two french braids (which is nice when it's windy).


Novemebr 2013: My latest hair-do.  I wanted to look as Mosotho as possible my last few weeks at site but unfortunately this only lasted a week (my hair is just too silky).  This hair took about 2 hours to do and it was VERY painful.  I have a lot of admiration for Basotho women who do this every month (it's also not a lot of fun to sleep on though I guess you get used to it.)  When in Africa, do as an African women do.







Friday, November 22, 2013

Recap


The countdown is now at 1 week and the last time I was so nervous was in October 2011, when I about to leave for Peace Corps.  The past few weeks have been filled with reflection; the times that I’ll never forget, the times I wish I could, the emotions; it all rushes back as I get ready to leave Lesotho.

I’ve done my best to preserve the memories I’ve made here through photographs.  I’ve taken over 4,000 photos in Lesotho, most of them of students, and I wanted to share some of my favorites.

Cali the Cat: If I haven’t said it before, being a PCV is hard and one of the biggest challenges for me  (and most others) is the loneliness.  During your interview they warn you about it but no one can really understand how isolating being a PCV is until they're in a foreign land, in a foreign home, and foreign culture, and they are the only ones like themselves in that area.  I got Cali almost as soon as I moved in to my site and she’s been my constant.  She’s the one I hold when all I want to do is cry, she’s the one I yell at when I’m angry; she’s the one I cuddle with in winter, and take summer naps with when it’s unbearably hot.  It’s been so much fun to watch her grow up from a tiny baby to the mother of now seven other cats.
Always thinking by the window

So this isn't actually Cali but one of her kittens.
My ‘M’e (Mother):  There are many days that I don’t actually speak to anyone.  Sure, I say hello and I teach, but very few days do actually have a conversation with someone.  It’s not that people are rude; they are just always speaking Sesotho and about people and things that I don’t know about.  The only person who always makes an effort to ask me how my day was is my ‘M’e.  Almost everyday she asks me how school was, shares with me stories about her own family (whether I know about them or not) her concerns about the new generation, and that I am getting fat.  She’s the person who’s made me feel a part of the Mokote family and I know I’m going to miss her so much.
My 'M'e is a proud, church going woman.  Here she's wearing her church uniform.

Dancing bo-‘m’e (women): My host mother and some of her friends co-ordinate a meal for the OVCs (orphans and vulnerable children) in our village.  On this Sunday the group of women were cooking and feeding the children and asked me to take some pictures.  After the children were fed they burst out in song and dance (which always go together).

Meeting Desmond Tutu:  I thought when I was coming to Africa I’d meet celebrities.  I have not really succeeded. But, I did get a chance to take a photo with Desmond Tutu.  The Anglican schools in Mohale’s Hoek celebrate their best performing students every year and the first year I was here the celebration was especially grand with a special guest from South Africa.  I didn’t recognize him at first but my co-worker did and she insisted we get a picture of him.  So I keep this photo in my phone and whenever I meet someone I want to impress I show them the only celebrity I’ve met in Lesotho.
Desmond Tutu is the one in the middle

Stormy, Windy Lesotho: Lesotho has the worst weather of any place I know of.  For an African country it actually gets cold in winter, it’s always windy which means dust flying everywhere, and when it rains, everything gets muddy.  The weather is unpredictable too.  Every website I check has a completely different forecast for the day and even when a sky is cloudless in the morning, by afternoon it can be pouring.
  

Beautiful and Peaceful Lesotho: There’s something about living somewhere touched so little by technology and development.  Beauty is all about you and it’s untamed; no manicured lawns that are always green and trimmed rose bushes.  Lesotho just is, and it’s so beautiful because of it.  Whether it be the bright light of the full moon, or the sparkle of the stars when there is none; the vibrant colors of a sun set, or the green you see after the first good rain, I appreciate the beauty of the world so much more.
 

Peach Blossoms: The end of winter is always marked by the blossoming of the peach trees.  The dry, yellow grass contrasting with the almost black bark with light pink flowers; I love peach blossoms.  Not to mention that means that there will be all-you-can-eat peaches soon.
   

Motaung (a member of the lion clan):  The area I live in is called Taung.  It means the area of the lion clan.  That means I am Motaung, and I live with Bataung (mo- is for a single person, ba- is for multiple people).  While clans are a very small part of Lesotho these days there’s still a sense of pride in Qhalasi about being Bataung.  Our chiefs can trace their lineage back to the creators of our clan and every year we celebrate them.
This picture was taken at the state funeral of a prominent Taung chief and the Minister of Development

The Modern Women of Lesotho:  I absolutely love my co-workers.  They challenged everything I thought I knew about African women and yet they maintain their African identity and culture proudly.  Their lives are so hard, from husband problems, single motherhood, to finding a baby sitter for their kids. And yet they surprise me with their strength and resolve to keep their families together, their fashion sense, and the way they have taken me in.

My Fellow PCVs:  I have to admit that I actually don’t like this picture very much.  It’s the first group picture I took with some of my fellow PCVs.  It was windy, we had a long day with our first day in training, and the person taking the picture was giving us a hard time.  But it reminds me how far I’ve come and how far we’ve come as a group.  I have so many photos and memories of times with other PCVs that it was impossible to pick a favorite.  While coming to Lesotho challenged my view of third world countries, my fellow PCVs challenged my view of America and I learned so much more about being an American from them.  I'll never look at my country the same way.

Friday, November 15, 2013

Welcome to Southern Africa

I've already posted about the places I've seen in Lesotho so I would now like to take the time to post a bit about some of the places I've seen outside of Lesotho.
Africa is a great place to travel because once you get here, everything else is ridiculously cheap.  I have not spent more that $400 on a vacation here and that includes transport, accommodations, souvenirs, and food.  I have rarely paid more than $12 a night for clean accommodations with a hot shower and a decent communal kitchen (that being said I probably have very low standards).
I highly encourage people to visit Southern Africa.  It seems that people have this idea that Africa is filled with starving children, malaria, and vast desserts; and yes this is sometimes true but Africa also has some amazing tourist sites.

South Africa
South Africa...enough said.  After the World Cup, South Africa has made a place for its self outside of the "oppressive regime" category.  I've seen Capetown (really more like America), Durban (like India but cleaner), Pretoria (a very pretty suburb outside of Johannesburg), and Clarenes (which you have never heard off).
Capetown has some awesome wineries and wine tours including ones with cheese!
I'll say a little about Clarens.  Clarens calls itself, the jewel of the Freestate, and it's a quaint little place right outside of the Lesotho border.  It's actually a nice place to see if you are visiting Lesotho.  The contrast between the two places is shocking.  It's also a good place to get some Basotho crafts and some good food lacking in Lesotho.
The beautiful Maluti Mountains (in Lesotho)
Clarens has a cute little brewery where you can taste all the beers for free before making your order
The brewery even makes a few ciders: apple, pineapple, cherry, and a seasonal berry.
Hmmm...cheesecake
Basotho crafts!
Mozambique
I found Mozambique to be very different from the other Southern African countries I have visited.  For one, they speak Portuguese!  All the other countries I visited people will be speaking the local, African languages so hearing Portuguese is so disorienting.  On top of that very few people speak English.  That being said Mozambique was one of my favorite trips because it was so different from Lesotho; tropical, the ocean, and different food.
 Beautiful beach and beautiful weather for the middle of winter
Sugar cane everywhere
An apple was ridiculously expensive but tropical fruits like papaya and coconut were very cheap

Swaziland
Swaziland, the other tiny country in Southern Africa.  On the border of Mozambique it shares a lot with that country and with South Africa.  We stayed at a nature reserve and did a horse back tour of the park.
Another tropical country
My horse did not like me
The animals are surprisingly calm when you drive past them
Traditional Swazi clothing
Botswana
Botswana is a large country and I was only able to see its capital.  Without access to a private car I wasn't able to see the true sites of the country found at the Northern most end.  I've heard that some of these reserves are so exclusive that they advertise their prices in US dollars not in Pula, the local currency.  We stayed close to Mokolodi Nature Reserve and had a chance to see a few animals.
If I remember correctly this a male and female khudu
Warthogs; did you know that when they run their tails go up?
The zebras in Botswana have brown stripes on their behinds
A very rare site, this mother and baby rhino came very close to our tour
Because of the food they eat, these male giraffes get darker the older they are (from the sun)