Date: 3 November, 2003
Location: LaLaLand
Re: Doing Fabulous
I finally made it. Qacha's Nek is amazing. The landscape, the people, the job, everything. Now if I could just get the memory of 50 crying Basotho children waving goodbye to me and throwing rocks at the guy who came to pick me up out of mind, I would be perfectly happy. Nopi Scanopi didn't really get what was happening until the last minute and then came tearing through people yelling "NO!" I'm tearing up at the thought of it. But I won't let that happen. This place is great. It snowed within the first 24 hours of my residency. Truth be told, I have kind of put off getting adjusted to "real life" here, as Heather and Jim (my aunt and uncle) are visiting. I didn't have enough vacation days left to leave, so we are adventuring through Lesotho. Having a wonderful time showing them around, sharing my experiences with them, and being spoiled by them.
Notice the new address (and new last name...my 4th Basotho last name!).
Jennifer
Date: 15 December, 2003
Location: LaLaLand
Re: ???
More than anything, this update is just to assure you all that I am alive and well and have not yet been kicked out of the Peace Corps. Eric is here visiting and we are havinga fabulous time. We went to Sehlabathebe (Lesotho's only national park) with my friends Adam and Jim, and now we are meandering around. Starting in January, I should have more reasonable access to both phone and email, so hopefully I won't feel quite so out of the loop (organizing Eric's visit with me in the highlands was an absolute headache -- he had to send smoke signals to let me know when I should expect him).
Things are going incredibly well. I didn't think that I could be this much happier in Lesotho.
Anyway, in case I don't find another compute before Christmas and New Year's, have a wonderful holiday season! Just think - 2004 is the year I am coming home! Wow - how is that possible?
Jennifer
Date: 15 January, 2004
Location: Maseru, Lesotho
Re: Details
Finally I am going to get around to telling you about my new site in detail. I moved in October because, though I loved my old site in Hleoheng Leribe, my job simply was not working out (the group hadn't met in months) and I figured that if I was going to sit around reading on my hammock for the next year, I might as well do it while learning a different part of the culture and in the beautiful highlands. Here's the scoop....
Qacha's Nek is the smallest and most remote of the 10 districts in Lesotho and is known for it's ruggid mountainsand tortorous bus ride over dirt roads to get here. I live in a small (but not tiny) round house (a rondavel) in the large village of Ha Manteko on the outskirts of teh Qacha's Nek camptown. I work in camp (a 1.5 hour walk each way) at BEDCO (Basotho Enterprises Development Corportaion www.bedco.org.ls) where (at least in theory) I am helping people with business ideas to put them into action with business skills training andpro bono assistance. My counterpart (Mpho) is a wonderful hip, modern young woman and we get along well. Qacha's Nek camptown is the quaintest, and hence the coolest, camptown (district headquarters) in Lesotho. It doesn't have a whole lot, but I can usually find a cold can of Coke when I need one, and a vendor has even started selling ice cream cones. My village is home to the district's main mission, so there's a fancy church and plenty of penguins walking around. It also houses one of the best high schools so most people speak relatively good English (a HUGE bonsues given no one spoke English in my last village). I live on the Makeka compound. My ntate (father) is 82 and was a founder of the village. He spent time in America and England and is extremely cool. We have an awesome dog named Kopa (Andrea: I am still trying to win your heart!). My house used to be used to store corn, so upkeep went neglected, but I have an amazing biew of mountains and a palm tere sits right outside (we call my house the "beachfront property"). I have painted the interior to camofaluge the holes, cracks and water marks, which has disappointedly just served to accentuate them, but it adds spirit and color to the place. I host a disgusting number of flies and other icky things attracted to the cows outside my house that ate my garden. A few vagrant herdboys also live on the compound. I have the world's smalled outhouse which always threatens to blow down during the awful wind storms. There aren't many children in teh billage, which is kind of a relief after the overkill in my last vilage. There's a water tap smack-dab in front of my house, which rarely works but is a huge bonus when it does. Two Qosa women work for my ntate, and they have become good friends, accompanying me on hikes and stopping by for tea. I feel a lot safer here...the scariest part of my day is passing the crazy guy who bonks people on the head with a stick. It is also a nice transition to have a constant companion. Adam (from my training group, from CA) works across the street, is my closest neighbors, and is an integral factor in my dealing with recent escalated frustrations with Peace Corps. We get along amazingly welland having a real friend so accessible has really changed my experience. We also apend a lot of time with a German DED volunteer named Jahn. Perhaps the biggest contract between my old site and my new site is me - I approached my new life with much sturdier feet and with experience as to what I can/can't do, and it has paind off. I feel much more independent and my core is more comfortable. But I also know that I couldn't apprecite this site as fuly had I not had Hleoheng. I am EXTREMELY fortunate, and feel like I have not only learned the country as a whole more authentically, but also gotten what if was for which I came. I am really happy at the moment, and go into my final months here (yes...the countdown is on...how does it go so fast?) with a renewed enthusiasm and a newfound comfort. On the other side of that, I think that I will be ready to come home when the time comes (at least for awhile). I am starting to tire of being uncomfortable and so many levels. And sheez...I miss ice cubes.
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Eric was just here for a two week visit. it was fun to see his impressions of my new site because he's my only visitor that has seen both places I have lived and I think he was much comforted by my new digs. We had a great time up until Christmas when I got really sick and I put him to work as my personal nurse. He was a good sport and helped me fare the ccrappiest Christmas of my life. I was finally back on my feet by new year's which I celebrated with Adam. We scored a bottle of cheap champagne and forced each other to stay awake until midnight as opposed by our regular 8pm bedtime.
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Be sure to check out the new pictures (courtesy of Doug, Tim and Eric...thank you!). Hopefully it will provide a better perspective of my life here than my often lame, always underperforming words do.
WRITE ME!!!!
Happy new year!
Jennifer
Date: 26 April 2004
Location: Maseru, Lesotho
Re: My Trip In A Paddy Wagon
I know you are all probably freaking out that I am actually updating this page twice in once week. The truth is, I am supposed to be sitting here figuring out the rest of my life, looking for jobs and perfecting my resume. But I cannot seem to find the inspiration to proceed, and am much more interested in writing to you guys. And it has been a pretty eventful weekend, so I will tell you a little story.
On Saturday, a group of volunteers were in Maseru to take the foreign service exam. After the test, we took off to Ladybrand (the border town) to celebrate being done with the test (I was just helping them celebrate). We bar hopped until past dark, then we started scouting for a ride home. I addressed the police who were wonderfully kind and told us they would meet us at a bar in a half hour to drive us to the border. So we end up in this trashy Boer bar, singing karoake and drinking too much. The police arrive and the bar goes silent (they are the only black people in the joint) and I am automatically confused because I don't get it. They tell us they will meet us outside. So within a few minutes, we are downstairs piling into the paddy wagon, bars and all. The next thing I know, our friend Weej is outside yelling at the Boers who have followed us down. I hear Weej calling them racists and I hear the Boers yelling Kaffir. Adam pulls Weej into the car just as the Boers start throwing punchses. The Boers try to open the door and jump in. We take off, then the brakes are thrown on because one of the guys had jumped in front of the car. The police did nothing - they waited for the guy to move, then we drove off and they stopped to make sure we were okay. We were freaking out with rage, and the cops simply said "we've been dealing with this for 40 years." That pretty much broke my heart - seeing how shamelessly these guys were and so vocal. And the way these cops were just so used to it.
So we made it home and ranted and raved about hating Boers for the next few hours. Ultimately, I have met some wonderfully kind Dutch South Africans. These guys were just the extremists, just as there are everywhere. But it sucked.
Jennifer