All burnt things taste the same!

Living in Semonkong makes you want to try new things, if anything then to just take up time. I hear this is especially true of winter time when it gets dark at around 5 and you want to go to bed around 7. I don't want to think about that right now! Even if winter wasn't the case it's fun just to play around with some cooking, it takes up time and doing dishes might be your biggest accomplishment all day...all week if it's typical Peace Corps!

The other day I made particular note when I baked up some peanut butter cookies mom sent me from home. Betty Crocker or someone like that; thanks mom! This is called roughin' it for real! I use a dutch oven on my stove top. It's used a lot for camp cooking and it works really well if not faster than a conventional oven. The only thing is I can't really measure how long things will take to cook. Everything is according to someone else, somewhere else, with something much nicer than my big pot!

The first batch didn't turn out too well. The cookies laid out into a big mass in the enamel plate I placed half the batter. After about 15 minutes though I started to doubt how good they would turn out. I tested the center and wasn't convinced that it was cooked all the way. This is a reaction to my new found disdain for eggs which I may vent about later.

I left the blob of a cookie in the pot for another 5 minutes and as soon as I took it out I knew it was fried on the bottom.

This isn't the first batch of anything that I've burn but no matter what it is there is the same taste. The smell might change from an acrid almost caustic fume to something more noticeably like fire. Fettuccine paste, orange bread, peanut butter cookies, it all tastes like burnt –a new flavor that hopefully Baskin' Robins doesn't start making.

The second batch was much better but no worries mom, nothing went to waste. I am too much like dad and scrapped off all the burnt!!

So I live on St. Leonard's mission in Semonkong. This means my landlord is the priest, Father Toloana. He's a soft spoken thin man no taller than maybe 5'3. His stature does not in anyway reflect his influence on the people he works with. Similarly, his soft spoken-ness contradicts his captain-of-this-ship mentality that demands a certain degree of authority.
Toloana and I share a cordial relationship. We greet each other and occasionally we chat. As a stubborn American I have done a couple things that bother this poor man and which do rattle his cage of control.
In my ever so American way I look for the quickest way to do things. How to get into town, off the compound or which ever direction is most direct are just thoughts that come natural. Anything otherwise seems a waste of time and energy. Even according to African time, I just can't 'waste time'.
My house is really back behind most of the compound; the “main entrance” where the church, the clinic, the parish offices, and the priest's house are all located. This proves to provide a bit of privacy when desired which is fine. A fence with a gate separates my house, at the end of the housing accommodations closest to the gate and the rest of Semonkong. Before, I would use this gate all the time. Most of that time it was open and passable but one day I came to find one of the farm hands wiring the gate shut not with one strand or two strands of wire but multiple strands wrapped to secure the gate. The farm hand turned to me and said “Ntate Toloana no want you to pass here. He want you go around” and he directed me to the main entrance. My counterpart later confirmed that he had said something to her. Since then he has also fixed weak spots in the fence where I was passing through just like I used to do when on the farm in VA.
In another situation, there is a dog which another volunteer from Skillshare International had adopted but left once she headed home. This dog is not like the other ten dogs on the compound or like dogs in Lesotho. This dog has some personality, does not approach people to bite them, and wags its tail when I come home. It reminds me most of American pets and the relationships that pets have with their human masters in the US. The dog came to me looking for attention when I first moved here in August. The priest, however, shakes his head every time he sees the dog come up to me, act out or jump. I know deep down he wishes all his dogs were that much fun. Really, dogs here are strictly utility and since local people know that, it scares them to see a dog act in such a way.
By the end of these two years I may either have to move or Toloana will have a heart attack because of my goings-ons around this compound. I still climb over the fence. If you were here you would do the same thing, I would think!! My dog is my new best friend here too so I'm not going to turn on her. She's is really nice, has a lot of energy, but no one works with her. I'll convence Basotho that dogs can have multiple uses; maybe!
At any rate, Toloana is still really nice to my face and he shares a great deal of the missions resources with me regularly. I still joke with my counterparts about him wanting to deport me but I think if he had his choice he would only send me to another town!

I spent Christmas with a good group of ten friends at Malealea Lodge in Lesotho. It was a great time with good food provided by the up and coming Allison, chef excell'ant. Anyway, the food was amazing and the cornmeal stuffing with cranberries is only second to my mom's cooking. That says a whole lot Allison! We also had a gift exchange around the fire pit. You gotta love the atmosphere but then again it was in the eighties, we were wearing shorts, and sweating like none other. It wasn't exactly Bing's dream Christmas but it was nice. I wasn't with my Family again and I didn't see my good Friends back in the States. I thought of you guys this day but I knew this holiday would be bitter-sweet. You must make do with what you have where you are.
Merry Christmas Everybody!! I miss you all! Matt, hope Christmas wasn't too bad away from home. I hear you still had snow so I hope it didn't allow you to miss good ole' Watertown either!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Becky and Nick's Around Lesotho Trip Extravaganza

If you can't tell, the name was not mine but it's still original!

This trip, which I took a week before the Christmas Holiday was to take me completely around Lesotho in a week and a half. It did and I even started in Semonkong, smack in the middle of the country. The amazing part of this entire trip is not the travel time or the distance. Most amazingly, Becky and I survived public transport for those ten days without once attempting mass murder! The tests of our patience are as follows! :

Day 1 and Day 2.
I got up to Maseru just fine. It's nothing I've never done before and like an old pro it was well planned and executed! I headed out the next day for Becky's site south of Maseru. I caught a 6am bus that booked it and I unexpectedly got to her junction much earlier than anticipated. I hit the right timing for a combi to the river, yes I said river. Becky got there just in time to see me head across in the steel bathtub of a boat.

On day 2 we stayed at Becky's site for a night. It's not as bad as she makes it out to be for those who hear her complain! Her house, though small in comparison with any average sized bathroom back in the States, it is quaint and has a nice homie feel!

The next day (day 3) we headed out early. When I mean early, we got up at 3:50am, had our coffee and headed out before 4:30am in hopes of not missing the only taxi straight from the river to Qhacha's Nek. Luckily we hiked down to the river fast enough to catch the boat in time to ride with two goats. These two goats were headed to Initiation school to be the celebratory brai (ie they were dinner). I felt their apprehension about getting into the boat as I dodged the four inches of water at the bottom with my ruck pack on my back. It was an act of grace!

Getting to Qhacha's and finally to Sehlabathebe was uneventful though Becky considered not getting a seat for half of our three hour trip to Sehlabathebe as an extreme failure. At the time it was an issue but after the rest of this trip, it wasn't anything to even notice!

Once in Selabathebe we figured out where we would stay—Mandy, the volunteer out there, couldn't come back in time to hang out with us. The Greenhouse lodge comes recommended for it flexibility and accommodations. It's not bad for what you get! The national park, which we headed out to the next day (day 4), is amazing. Definitely make a trip out to the arches and the water pools. Its a completely different Lesotho.

The next day (day 5) we were ready at 5am for the taxi. Unfortunately, we were told three different times that became progressively later. We headed out to the junction at 6am and waited most of the day for a taxi that we later learned wasn't leaving until the evening. Thirteen hours and four quarts later we left on a combi headed only to Sehonghong. Six thirty at night isn't such a bad time to leave in the States. You can still see the road with your headlights. You can ride safely, alert, and with little traffic. No worries here about traffic. We were the only thing on the road. I also wasn't worried about the driver when, at one point, he reaches across both Becky and I to get his Red Bull out of the glove department. Gotta love globalization!!

Feeling safe on this road—if you can call it a road—was a hopeless dream even with headlights. At least there were only two times the entire trip that our driver actually looked over to me with relief as if he had doubt about making it through. I knew sitting up front was a great idea! I must say it's unfortunate we went at night and during patches of rain. There were surely some spectacular sights we missed because we could only see as far as the next turn in front of us. A blessing in disguise is, however, not forsaken.

Getting to Sehonghong at night not knowing where we were going except that the combi was to drop us off at the Police Station was unsettling. Once we reached the Police Station entrance the driver said “ok, here you are.” “Really?” I asked as politely trying to hide the doubt in his plan. Because Sehonghong has no lodging facilities he hoped the police wouldn't mind if we stayed in the station. I found out when the bus left the next day heading up the Pam's site and then Becky and I got out. At the station door we knocked and I explained ourselves. But before I could finish talking the officer already said yes and upon opening the door I see we are not the only two who want to stay here. There are people sleeping on the floor in front of the office counter, on the counter, behind the counter and anywhere else there was a bit of space. Note to self, lodging in Sehonghong needed/business opportunity??!! But Peace Corps Nick was tired and both of us just wanted to crash and get this long day over with. As we settle in behind the counter of the station ALL the other passengers came in stuff-in-hand. They had sent the two who can't speak Sesotho in first to make sure it's ok then they followed!

I would love to say it was an amazing night and I woke refreshed and ready to catch a bus to Pam's site in Meshai. Well, the next day I was never more ready to get on a bus but it surely wasn't because I had a great night's sleep. Any number of things made it uncomfortable. I wasn't sleeping on my bed/a bed, there were people moving about all night, the police were the loudest people having what seemed like a party in thee next room; any of these things could have made it hard to sleep, right? After 2:30am if did get better once the drunk officers left for their duty in Mokhotlong. “That's it, get a head start before we head up so we just miss you!” At one point, one of the officers asked me for my number and gave me his in case we were ever in an unsafe situation. Might take my chances with the crook before the cops.

At any rate, we were up and out at dawn on day 6. We made it to Pam's site in something around 45 minutes which was such a nice change from all the transportation we had been on the past five days. At site we were treated to pancakes and coffee, some much needed chill time by the river, and excellent company with Pam. Her 'Me' who hosts her in Meshai is amazing and I would love to go live with her; though, I love Semonkong!

Early on day 7 we headed on the bus up to the junction which splits between Thaba-Tseka and Mokhotlong. Thinking there would be plenty of tourist traffic, which there normally is, we tried to hitch whenever possible. About seven hours later we got on a combi, unsuccessful with a hitch. Sitting there was pretty fun though since Becky and I were well rested, positively charged, and ran into too many funny situations.

I almost convinced a fellow Jamaican of my island heritage. Some strange interactions with the Afrikaner tourists that shot through provided plenty of material for the rest of the trip. At one point one Afrikaner, upon learning we were from the United States of America, said “Oh, really? We have someone in the other car from Argentina.” Argentina? We said the United States of America not the Americas. Sometimes the connections we make in our heads are too funny.
Once we made it to Mokhotlong the drama that is Lesotho's Public transport melted away into regular ridiculousness. We had a great time the rest of day 7 and day 8 hanging out with Rachel and James in town.

After such struggles to get around Lesotho, I cut my stay short and didn't head up to Rachel's on day 9, instead opting to head back to Maseru early. I had reservations at Malealea lodge for Christmas that I didn't want to loose because of public.

All-in-all this was an awesome trip and it has given me an awesome perspective of the entirety of Lesotho. I also saw some sights that I may not have seen otherwise. Maybe we had some issues along the way but I wouldn't trade my partner for anything as we went through it all. We traveled well together and most of the time we're making jokes to keep ourselves sober in all of the insanity. You can't doubt the power of humour!

I will post other pictures on Picaso soon.

Globalization, ah yea, that's when everyone becomes like us. It is a big word, right? Who's even sure what it means other than a catch-all for this increasingly inter-connectedness we see happening right now.
I'm in the Peace Corps, right? That dung hut must be really nice for whoever else is in one. There are those places of extreme seclusion. If that's what you want, Peace Corps will send you there. But, here I am sitting in my Semonkong house. I've got my computer connected to my phone, my phone connected to that big tower on the hill, and somewhere along the way I pick up the internet. I am connected to everyone in seconds!
I am more in-line with modern technology in Africa than I have ever been in my entire life. It's great and I can't complain. For me, this is amazing and for people in this community, who just got this tower only two years ago, it has transformed the way they communicate with each other, friends and family.
Before, in order to talk to Maseru, only a four hour car ride away, a letter would have to be written and given to someone headed on the bus into town. Imagine a letter. Nothing like the modern pony express and yet this was the only way to get a message to Maseru until 2 years ago. Once the tower was built people got cheap phones. The cheapest, a Vodacom basic, is about US$14. The prepaid system allows the owner to pay according to their own use.
The SMS, or text message is popular. A new written language has even emerged that abbreviates everything to an almost unrecognizable form. For those who want to send the 'I'm thinking about you message' or the 'hey, call me back' message there is the one buzz. The caller allows one ring to go through showing the receiver who is calling, but before they might answer the caller disconnects.
About a month ago I found myself explaining how satellite Television worked to a farmer out in the mountains 1 ½ hrs from town. 'It's like the echo off of a mountain face' I tried to explain thinking this must be easier than trying to explain radio waves and frequency. Conversations like this one or using my phone in the middle of no where to get online; these surreal moments are the real substance of globalization. How local people here will use this inter-connectedness is the impact we are all waiting to see.
Already I can introduce you to one young guy who has completely transformed into his idol and fellow thug, the late 2Pac. Instead of the traditional shishueshue blankets the older men and women wear, the young people are dressing with more western wear. More than the clothes young people are wearing, though, people are talking more about the world. Be it American politics, the latest wrestling news or whatever, people are becoming more aware of the greater world around them. They are also becoming more capable of forming their own opinions and perspectives.
Are they becoming like us? If you consider an ability to think and formulate your own opnions then yes. More than anything, however, people are figuring out what it means to be themselves in this ever seemingly small world. That may be the greatest legacy of it all and the greatest impact.

An Accordion in Lesotho?!

Music is a spring board for understanding culture. The tempo and rhythm in a culture's sounds depict the general mood of people. In the US we share an amalgam of sounds, a true mixing of tempos that create a variety of rhythms and thus a variety of people. Those sounds come from all over the world. Though their roots are traceable to some distant place on the map, their feel is distinctly American.
Lesotho is no different in its shaping of sound. There is a truly unique sound coming out of this tiny country that Basotho should claim all their own. Where the eclectic combination of according, drums, guitar, and singing/chanting/yelling originally emerged I can't tell you. No doubt, though, some European, in their infinite wisdom of personal impact, had no idea how much of an effect bringing an according to Lesotho would actually have on Basotho's taste in music.
In every combi (public transportation) and from any Masotho's radio this distinct type of sound can be heard. Variations on the beat and the feel are numerous but the general feel is rampant within each song.
I am trying not to be biased, but in some ways I don't get the same feeling of enjoyment that Basotho get (the nicest way to say 'I am not a fan'). There just doesn't seem to be a good reason why any kind of music needs a baby crying in the background or ... an accordion ... ever! Even if this is the case, sitting in a combi for five hours with the left speaker hovering over your head at full blast is only enjoyable if you start the trip out deaf.
None the less, Basotho love it. Thank you German Missionaries! Basotho also have some crazy dance moves that fit the quirky music. Hopefully, I can get some previews for you to make your own judgments. You can let me know what you think.
In any event, you don't have to like everything people do in order to appreciate people in general.

Hello From Lesotho

For those that don't know, I am currently living in Lesotho. If you are like me and have to Google (verb form) it, don't feel ashamed. To point you in the right direction, Lesotho is that small spot of a country completely inside of South Africa at the tip of Africa. This is one of only three countries in the world that is completely surrounded by another country; Lesotho, the Vatican (yep, it's a country), and San Marino (also a small city/country in the north of Italy).
The next two years I am calling Semonkong, Lesotho home. No Mom it will never replace my real home!! Love you guys! No, home is a two room tin roofed building on St. Leonard's Mission. As part of the Peace Corps agreement, my host organization pays my rent for this place. Though I don't have running water, the electricity is only available six months out of the year, and my latrine is a mini throne out back, this is a great place. This is a definitely improvement to what I was imagining; mud walls, with a dung floor and thatched roof. Most people in the rural areas do live in those kinds of houses but I just got lucky and received one of the best houses in Semonkong.
Semonkong means “The Place of Smoke” named so after the mist that rises from the famous waterfall in the area. If you like westerns then this is the place for you! Though we are about four hours from the capital, you must travel for about two hours on gravel road up to an elevation of about 2200 meters (about 7000ft). Once here you can see how the mountains that surround this place can make it a rural highlands town. In every direction for kilometers/miles people come to town on horse or donkey to get supplies. The horse rank is bigger than the bus rank. (A rank is just the place designated for people to park their form of transportation or to get public transport.) When it rains the roads become a network of mud trails. I love it!
I am working with a local Basotho NGO. Three men from villages in the area started this organization to improve overall development of member villages. The people with membership in this group are hoping to receive information on farming, income generation, health and sanitation; any number of things that may help them to better grow and thrive. The farmers I have come to know are really motivated but they don't have the education or skills to do what they set out to accomplish.
Some of the projects Katleho 'Moho Association is formally participating in are the building of latrines with members support, Farmers extension work and support, an Organic farmers project, supporting the creation of a weaving group in town, community gardens with fruit tree and indigenous plant production, and the coordination of networking efforts for Farmers, Orphans, and Semonkong Basotho in general. The list is rather extensive. With two offices, one in Maseru and one here in Semonkong, this group is one of the most motivated and active groups in all of Lesotho.
I consider myself very lucky to have been place in such an amazing area and with such a good group of people. You are surely to hear more about the goings-ons here.