I thought you guys might like to see some pictures of some Bo-Me (women) I work with in Semonkong. They are getting paid for the work they did spinning yarn. This is a project I am working on in conjunction with a donor out in the UK. These women are really great and are some hard workers. I’m thinking they will go far!

I came into Maseru this week, February 24th, because I wanted to meet with my Peace Corps supervisor, Maria, and because I needed to talk with Mike, the businessman who is helping to develop the organic farming project in Semonkong.

Though the bus was late, 6:30 instead of 6 am which hasn't happened before, I was not tipped off to any kind of strange day as transportation goes. The number of passengers was high for what seemed no good reason and their jubilance seemed irregular but it was a beautiful day.

Once we finally reached the outskirts of Maseru the number of combis, the van like taxis, always increase. This one particular day, however, a combi makes one wrong move and pulls in front of the bus driver as we are letting some people off. For whatever reason the bus driver does not like the idea and wants to let the other driver know in his own special way.

Climbing up and over to reach the proportionally large glove compartment on the bus, the driver pulls out his mulamoo—that herd boy stick that must be issued at initiation into manhood—and marches over to the combi driver's side to teach him a lesson.

Taking his stick, the bus driver starts stabbing it into the driver's side through the window and yelling. He then makes a move to pull the driver out of his combi to continue beating him. Clearly the lesson today was meant to be interactive. Five minutes later the bus driver was back in the driver's seat and we were on our way. I got off early and walked the rest of the way reminding myself to write to you guys about this one!

For the past couple weeks I have been planning to have a group of PCVs (Peace Corps volunteers) come up to Semonkong. My purpose was selfish. I wanted people to see how beautiful this place is and also just wanted to hang out. A year ago a volunteer from another organization helped the local community to set up a donkey pub crawl that would take tourists around to the seven bars, pubs, and local huts for a taste of the areas entertainment.

In total I think we only had two people fall off their donkey by the end of the day though one of those fell twice. Robbie got a guy he knows in Maseru to make up some t-shirts which are going to be pretty awesome. The food, the fun, and the drinks were great and hopefully everyone sees that Semonkong is pretty awesome.

I don't think I will ride a donkey again, though. Mine was pretty stubborn. Rightly so, I suppose. I think I weighed just about as much as the donkey! Hopefully in the future the community guides won't get such small donkeys. At least I found a few town kids I knew who wanted to ride my donkey after the donkey and I had both given up.

I'm sure you guys keep wondering what I am doing out here. It must seem I do nothing more than hang out, ride donkeys, eat and sleep, and talk to people. Though that does happen it is not the only thing I find myself doing. A great deal of my time is spent with Katleho 'Moho Association. As my host organization I am a bit beholden to them though at times I might wish to escape!

The first few months were spent becoming introduced to the organization's structure, work, and purpose. Coming with an overwhelming enthusiasm, I was quickly made aware that things don't quite move that fast. Similarly, the ideas I had of what I would be doing needed to change. Truly, I learned to look at where I might be needed the most. Or course this meant I needed more time. I waited to learn as much as I could about what these guys are trying to do in Semonkong. Though that hasn't stopped, I have come to a point where I feel informed enough to move beyond just observation.

There hasn't been one big shift from the observer to the participant. Rather, I have seen my role within KMA's organization gradually increase. After a meeting with the organization's executive secretary in December where I informed him of the places I thought could most use, my assistance my job became more defined.

Now I am working with KMA's group of organic farmers who are getting with the natural food craze which is also huge in South Africa. My work with this group is diverse and I work with multiple people depending on the activity but the over-all goal is to get this group farming organically and certified to sell under that label. Nothing comes easily or quickly in Lesotho and organic certification is a behemoth of a project. By training certain group members, staff and farmers are various aspects, I hope that I get them on track to become certified.

Recognizing the possibilities close to home, I am also planning various trainings on local marketing and agra-business practices. These skills will help farmers to identify local customers, analyze local market capacity, and to manage their production and storage so as to get the best prices. Never before have had I considered so much about business or agriculture but I do enjoy thinking about the possibilities. What I don't know I seek out and learn or I find others who can help.

I am also working with several villages as we plan to expand a fruit tree and indigenous plant nursery project. The idea does not originate with me. I have already worked with KMA once with

But planning to integrate these villages into one production unit is something I am advocating. You guys will hear more about this in the near future.

You know those few people that are shining souls. Their actions, the way they carry themselves and what they say only reinforce this initial insight. Me Nthabileng Thakane is one of those people. She is a member of twelve women wool spinning group I work with though I know her best of them all. Standing roughly 5'6” she has a soft face and a healthy figure. What could be mistaken for being shy is most similar to a graceful reserve. There is no hasty decision made here and unlike some who can appear inattentive she wants to know.

I first recognized this in her when, after the holidays, I was working out in my gardens one Saturday and she came out. We greeted and she sat for a bit and watched as I worked then asked if she could help. Why would I ever say no to help with weeding so of course I said yes. Working twice as fast as I did bent over and sweating she mentioned 'I am pregnant' which caught me off guard and wondering if she was speaking some kind of Sesotho. I tried to get her to stop working but she was determined saying she needs milk for her baby. I had hired someone and didn't even know it out right.

The rest of our time out in the gardens I got to thinking about my current dilemma. How do I get her to stop? Should I get her to stop? Thank goodness she is smart enough to know what she needs for her baby. We headed back to my house and I paid her what would be the equivalent of a whole days wages; enough for some milk, some bread, and some to save for tomorrow.

If that wasn't enough, she has been the only one this past month to be working in the make-shift shop next to my house. Everyday, rain or shine, this woman shows up more than seven months pregnant ready to work.

'This is Africa' I convinced myself, and with a mom like that this kid is going to be a force in Semonkong.

The Law is in town!

The Police in Semonkong just started to enforce road laws. Some mandate was handed down along with cash demanding local police enforce road laws all over Lesotho. Now if any of you saw Semonkong you might know better how humourous road laws seem. On gravel roads and mud paths there isn't much beyond commonsense and experience that rule. To promote a stronger sense of authority and to enhance their efficiency the once horse mounted police are now cruising around in specially outfitted Toyota Land Cruisers with a holding cell in the back. Thanks to a large grant from some international organization, police all over Lesotho are now all riding around in the blue and yellows.

Mostly, this is a great initiative. Too many times people get wasted here on beer or local brews and then hop into their vehicle. Hopefully those same guys are the police! But to have people roam around looking after things is pretty great.

The first time I met the police in their official capacity was at my front door around 7 am. Four men taller than myself standing in a row or propping one leg on a stack of blocks all like something from an eighties gang movie. At first I thought I should leave the bars locked on my door but they introduced themselves as the police. They were coming to have someone identify some stolen property from my organization. Living right beside the office at the time made me the steward of hospitality so I invited them in to have a seat and wait for one of the office staff. Three of the four came and had a seat. We began talking until I interrupted to ask if the fourth man would like to come inside. The one officer, a large man with a voice deeper than Vader's, said “no, that is the criminal” pointing outside with his mulamoo, the local herd boys stick used to tend the animals. Something in my “oh!” response tipped them off to the unexpectedness and the officer then said “maybe we should put handcuffs on him” almost asking me and the other guys if it was a good idea or not.

Different is the kind of law enforcement in Lesotho. That same day I rode around in a commandeered pick-up truck with the criminal as he showed us all the secret spots for his stolen materials. At least then he had cuffs on the whole time!

The authority the cops have here should be welcomed but like anywhere, if you give a guy a bull horn he will abuse it! Another night most recently, Ro (another Peace Corps volunteer also living in Semonkong) and myself were getting a lift back from the lodge with the staff. That night, like most, the lodge was using the same old Land Rover to bus everyone home. This night was particularly special with the addition of blue police lights polluting an otherwise beautiful moonless night.

The office ran up behind us and started blaring his bull horn. I don't know how the driver understood anything through the crackling of a speaker up way too loud. The driver came back and said we all had to get out of the car.

By this time in my service I have come to know and be recognized by most anyone. It's a fact of living as a white man in a small neighborhood in Africa. Thinking I could ask about the situation, I got out of the Land Rover and headed to the driver's side of the police truck only to watch the truck pull into reverse to evade me. 'Where is he going?' I thought to myself. The bull horn then kicked in like the wizard of OZ saying something to the equivalent of “ssscccrreeecchhhhaaaa;” the static again. I persist just to reach his window to see who it is and say hi. This guy had nothing off it, popped the truck into drive and rode off with the lights on and the static echoing through town. What a genius!

The next day I came to learn that the driver was arrested, asked to proceed to the police station where he slept, and the vehicle was impounded all because the officer felt there were too many people in the car. Six people occupying a legal 8 places was not hard for Jonathan to argue. Apparently, the officer got beat and demoted for the incident. Not sure it was that bad either but such are the ways round the town of Dodge.

Last week I went out with Palesa and Nthabileng, two of my counterparts with Katleho 'Moho Association, to see farmers' fields. We are wanting to measure each farmer's field with particular focus on how much is being grown. Mostly, everyone is producing wheat, corn, and potatoes on a large scale. There are also a lot of peas and people are preparing to plant cabbage for their fall crops.

More than anything that amazes me is the distance people will travel to get to their fields. Walking three or four miles up and around mountains to get to the fertile lands that spot the local area is the norm.

For example, Me' Mathuso's one field has to be a solid three miles away from her place in Polateng village. The field is set within a small convergence of fertile land at the base of two large mountains above a tributary stream to the Maletsunyane river. Her four of her seven plots are filled with the progressively browning wheat which has almost reached maturity. The other three upper plots are filled with half-heartedly germinated corn deterred by the mild summer weather and a late rainy season. Another of her fields has a better stand of corn and yet another field is split with a stand of peas and a plot of potatoes. Three fields in all are under her care and each is equally far from her responsibilities to care for three children at home as a single mom. These children's health and stability this year, like each before, depends on the success of the harvests from these fields. All around her house she has gardens with spinach, swiss chard, beets, onions, and squash. Anything she can produce is one more thing that keeps her children fed and protects them from the hunger pains of winter.

I am impressed.

I've realized one of my favorite foods is actually nothing more than a bowl of cereal. Corn Flakes, milk, sugar and some fruit (any way I can get it) is the perfect breakfast for me. This is probably true because of the localized disdain for the effects of eggs on my health but none-the-less its delicious. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to find corn flakes as a local choice but I can in Maseru and even in Semonkong.

There is a huge difference in price, though, between the Maseru prices and Semonkong's. I can get a 500g box of flakes for R18 where in Semonkong I can only get a 300g box for the same R18. If it wasn't for the crack like addiction to the stuff I would not even write about it here. Lesheleshele, a local porridge made of sorghum, is a possible transition, particularly during the winter since it is cooked but the stuff tastes like...well, just let you imagination be mean to the thought of porridge.

Maybe I seem foolish. The price for a box is only R18. That is the equivalent of about $1.70 right!? But I am a Peace Corps volunteer and now even corn flakes have become a delicacy. I can't even imagine what locals might think of the stuff!

I must be careful, though, because I fear Mom will get a wild hair and pack a kilo of the stuff and ship it to the detriment of Dad's health! I love you guys and no, I don't love Corn Flakes more!

I don't know how it happened but I have become the village tinkerer. Continually people come to asking it I can look at one thing or another. The other day it was a camera. I must admit I like the challenge and I love looking at things but not everything made nowadays is meant to be tinkered with. When I told the guy there was nothing I could do, however, he asked if we could order a new motor. It makes perfect sense with everything else that you would just replace the broken part, right? Try to explain to a guy who spent a month’s wages or half his life's savings just to purchase this camera that it’s just not ‘worth’ fixing a broken camera. Another guy not even a week later came by the house and asked if I could look at his cell phone. Similar case and he was bummed too.

Thing is, when I think about it, what can you really do. You buy cheap you get cheap and you must accept, when it breaks that you just throw it away. It’s dumb but cost efficient; though not environmentally friendly to say the least. Do items that cost more make it worth fixing them and can you even do that. There are some industry giants that go in the red just to sell you a product that they then hope you will later pay them to fix or maintain. Great idea but I don’t think that is going to trickle down to this Kodak camera or he Nokia phone. Though the tinkerer still tinkers the camera is still dead.

“The environment belongs to all of us who live in it.” -Unknown

I just got back from a meeting at Semonkong's stadium which the community council's secretary called. He wanted many of the major interests in town to come together so he could announce his new plan for the waterfalls area.

Ntate Mapeka's idea is to start charging everyone a fee to view/be near the falls area. Though this is primarily targeting the tourist traffic that comes to Semonkong, this scheme will also charge locals who pass by the falls on their way to somewhere else, school children that come on field trips, or other Basotho who would also be 'tourists' in the area. The cost for a tourist would be R50 per person per visit. After being asked about locals being charged the same amount he notedly reascended the original cost instead favoring R25 for locals.

Ntate Mapeka's desire is to fund several major initiatives in the area. A resource center and other service facilities, a botanical garden, and a sports programs for the whole town are just a few of his projects.

Jonathan, the owner of the only major tourist lodge in town, was also present to give his perspective. Because of the high competitiveness of tourism in Africa and even in the few lodges scattered about Lesotho, Jonathan remarked that “This charge would therefore put the entire tourism industry in Semonkong at risk.” Being out priced is one thing but even the location of Semonkong hours down a bad road and off the easy path makes it an already challenging business feat. To counter Mapeka's plan, Jonathan suggested a community trust organized to manage the development and protection of Semonkong's interests and environment.

I didn't want to bore you guys but I couldn't help but be impressed in many ways but this situation. I learned a lot just from watching this meeting and listening where I could, though it was in Sesotho.

I saw how a public official can get a wild hair and his decisions could completely alter a community. Preparedness overwhelmingly favored one side. It was also evident how much the community is unsure whether to trust the council. The underlining question and answer seemed to be 'how have you helped us thus far and why should the community not think the council will simply picket this money'.

The lodge, just this past month of December saw over R25000 go directly out into the community through pony trekking and guided tours. The lodge's impact in numbers is staggering. All guided tour and trek money goes directly to the local guides that work. That money then stays within Semonkong and is used in town to support other businesses.

This is a perfect example of policy administrators' common disconnect from the community they serve. The national government's directive to create local community councils to get people involved in their community is an excellent plan. Unfortunately, policy administrators can get a strong head for their own personal plans. Stubbornly they fail to consult and collectively implement community initiatives. Policy and project administrators Become disconnected so much from their community that when developing their plans they can forget the many stakeholders and influences that are shared in the community.

I hope this doesn't affect the integration of the community council concept into Basotho's political and cultural framework. Seeing the way people openly discussed their views of this falls payment scheme is a hopeful cry in favor of continued community input.

A development delimma.

Alright, so sometimes I have to actually almost say it to myself in the mirror: “you are a development worker.” That comes with more baggage than the phrase actually first implies. Since the Peace Corps wasn't honestly on my radar until about two years ago, the thought as to what I was getting myself into didn't settle in until, oh, maybe a couple months ago. I saw a Katleho 'Moho document that outlines everyone's roles within the organization. Yep, you guessed mine; Development Worker.
The truth is I still don't know what that really means to me personally. Thinking of myself as someone just coming to Lesotho to live with people so I can get to know them and the world they see was as far as I projected myself. 'I would help people,' though with what I wasn't too sure. Can I fault my previous ill-preparedness. Nah, not really. I would actually say it set me up to maintain an open mind for what I might see, and do. Certainly I wasn't just coming to Semonkong to help people build some houses and work in the fields as free labor but I considered whole-heartedly that my expectations of Africa, of the Peace Corps, and development were simply uninformed.
Now that I am here I see the relics of previous development workers. 'White Elephants' the locals call those skeletons of foreign projects no longer active. My favorite is a huge warehouse looking structure at the other end of town which was originally meant as the headquarters of a local farmers cooperative. If it was something akin to the heart of the organization then you can definitely say the organization is long dead. The building stands as a reminder of what a lot of money can do without any accompanying management training.
A similar project was a noble effort to construct two medium sized greenhouses at the local high school. The project was initiated and fully carried out with another country's money. The materials were purchased and the structure built without the need of any local people's involvement. Two agriculture teachers received minimal training on greenhouse management but then as fast as lightening the donors were gone. No one talked with school administrators about how to maintain the structure, how to repair it, or draw up a plan in case repairs were needed. Who was more naïve, the locals to think that the donors would remain forever or the donors to think their project would last till the end of time without developing people and plans?
In the end, no one is any better off especially since the plastic covering for the greenhouse was torn about five years after being secured. With no plan of repair or even a model number to reference the structure began its slow and expensive decline. This is a legacy of development.
There are others too. Mostly, however, the impact of foreign development workers in Semonkong has inadvertently been on the people themselves. White Elephants are just reminders of what development workers really mean; money. At some point people here started to see outsiders as the solution rather than a means. Outsiders with good intentions failed to engage locals and demand that they invest in their own successes. Instead of flourishing once the development worker left, people began to distrust one another, to loose interest and not care for what seemed not to be theirs.
This is the environment I find myself; the cesspool of a legacy. Yet, Semonkong still develops, imagine that. The developed world has caught wind of this new trend in the latest generations of youth who know development as a means to big things with little cost. That is what I most want to avoid. If I don't do anything else then I just want to ensure I don't contribute to that mentality. To me that is what Peace Corps really does and means. Maybe I am wiser for this thought.

A battle looms.

It's 9th grade science class with Mrs. Russel. I have chosen to do an experiment on duck weed for my final project. I can only remember working with the ridiculously stubborn and small plants laboriously trying to test something or other. I don't remember what my hypothesis was for that pond scum. Slaving over cups of green covered water –or brown covered-- resulted in a low A. I'll give myself an A at least! Yesterday I was reminded of those days after school looking at the half dead cups water scum.
It's toward the end of the growing season here and part of a side project I have is to collect indigenous plant seeds for next year. This is a small activity that supports a larger effort to get farmers more self-sufficient through their own seed production, to enhance their ability to raise income, and to conserve the environment. I write everything down. If I didn't I would forget why I have so many seeds laying around my house. Mostly, however, I'm also trying to get farmers to write down what they see. Unlike in 9th grade when my goal was probably just to get a grade and be finished, this project has a bit more purpose and meaning. I am feeding off that motivation right now.
Farmers love to ask why I just let the wild plants grow in my garden. “Aren't you going to cook them” some ask and many wonder.
I can't stand the plant to be honest. When it is young the leaves are a bright green. The plant itself emerges before most plants early in the growing season which is why so many locals enjoy it cooked. It's a simply sign of the coming spring and breaks the long forced fasting many families have endured for two, three, or more months. I haven't tasted it cooked well yet. There isn't much I can imagine it complimenting well on my plate but the Basotho love it and will buy it when in season. It's bought young and tender like most good vegetables. There is a great cringe when I think about it fully grown and matured. A great obstacle in my garden now, I have to dodge every piece of its existence to avoid the stinging retaliation for a false move.
Stinging nettle, evil plant of the devil, I don't know the scientific name though I probably should look it up. In Sesotho it is Bobatsi. An innocent looking plant with deceit in its photosynthetic walls. If you can tell, I have endured many stings just to learn more about this plant. This is nothing like duck weed. But I do appreciate all that effort which helps me now. So thank you Mrs. Russel. Your efforts then are a benefit to me now.

You may think I am a dork...

This past week the field agents have been heading out to the villages to collect field data. They are measuring fields and interviewing farmers to learn what and how much people are planting. When I don't have other work related things to do, I usually head out with them. This is a great way to talk with farmers, see the area (aka get some hiking in), and really get into a field to see what farmers are doing around here. Never thought I would be an Old McDonald on the farm but I do enjoy it.
Anyway, I was glad when I went last Thursday because I noticed something at the end of the day that is pretty exciting for around here. As we finished up the last field measuring for Polateng village, I was just looking at surrounding fields of wheat and noticed a considerable difference in the development of wheat crops. Both seemed to have been planted at the same time but one was infested with a particular weed prevalent in the wheat crops of the area and the plants' grain didn't seem to fill out as tightly. The other field, right next to this one, had an excellent stand of wheat with well developed grain heads and very little weed issues. (Yea, you didn't know I knew so much about wheat did you! Neither did I!)
Fortunately, for the sake of this story, I am not the only one that was excited. My counterparts were all very interested in what was going on in this field.
A relatively new variety seems to be the reason for the extreme difference in fields. The farmer had purchased the seed from a distant cousin living in the even more rural mountains outside of Semonkong by about a day's horse ride. Seeing the performance of this variety is exciting and, yes, I know you guys think I am crazy but every advantages counts for something up here. Every little accomplishment also helps to boost my energy to stay here so hopefully they keep coming.

Just imagine me writing a letter to someone...other than myself!

Dear 'Me' (Mrs) & Ntate (Mr.) Lesotho,
I feel your struggle trying to juggle a busy schedule. I can't imagine the labors you go through, and trying to do it with kids, no thanks!
A microwave, a shower with hot water in my house; I have forgotten modern convenience. Maybe I just don't dwell on what I can't have. A toilet out back humbles me when it is cold. My laundry machine is sixty years old and caring for her grand-daughter. Dishes are one of the few things I feel accomplished in doing. There is nothing like getting some dishes clean.
Really Ntate Lesotho, I don't live like you guys. I live with you in Semonkong but I don't have the worries or the daily chores I must do otherwise my family will starve. Working in the fields to plant, weed, and harvest, caring for the animals so they have water and food, repairing the wind-blown house and the cracking mud walls and dung floor before winter aren't just nuisances. How many people can you ask for a job so you can keep you child in school when everyone is asking for the same. Sympathy is in short supply when everyone drinks from the same source of feast or famine.
And 'Me' Lesotho, there isn't enough time in a day for all the things you need to accomplish. The second in command always gets the raw deal. You wake up just before the crack of dawn to see your children and husband ready and off where they need to be for the day. Only after making breakfast and cleaning dishes, dressing the kids, and not to mention preparing yourself for the day are you prepared to get to work. The gardens need tending because this is the food just for you family. After pulling the weeds and watering the seedling cabbages you head to the stacked dung patties. Your husband dug the kraal manure and it's now yours to turn the bricks of dung so they dry. You also have a side job spinning wool which helps with some of the house's expenses. This you walk for an hour to reach. You work with precision so as to make the equivalent of 50 cents a day. Complaints are hard to come by, though, since you have a job and can make some extra money.
No, Ntate & 'Me' Lesotho, you two are some hard working people. Even if we don't live the same lives, I can appreciate the difficulties of changing one's standard of living. This is especially true when you are just trying to live.
Warmest Regards,
Hlompo Matsitsi

The past few weeks have been less than glamorous but probably some of the most productive time I have spent. We have been working on reporting in the Semonkong office. Like any NGO, those who benefit from donations are beholden to the benefactors.
Much of the time I have been training staff informally on various skills and basic concepts. It has been everything from computer skills and uses to reporting structures and English. Most often I try to be a facilitator. This is a skill I have never mastered and rarely used up until now but I find it enjoyable. More than anything I am practicing the art of keeping quiet. It is frustrating to know what must be done, to know you could do it much faster, but to recognize that the trainees will never learn if they don't do it themselves. Facilitation really is a two way street of learning. It's nice when Nthabileng, Palesa, or Matsitsi actually approach me asking about something in particular. They are so excited to learn and develop themselves whenever possible.

My new least favorite food is the egg. There is nothing wrong with the egg itself that I despise. Plenty of people write about how amazing it. But for me its a trial in intestinal fortitude when ever I eat.
For some reason the demand for eggs in Semonkong has not triggered a local egg production project in response. I may start it single-handedly. Three times now I have been sick from eating eggs that have been bad. Peace corps teaches us how to judge a good egg. Guess I'm not a good judge. I've gotten so good at knowing when I'm sick that I can preempt the pains and cramps with a special home remedy.
The first time I was sick curled up on my bed Nthabileng, my counterpart, told me to take a dose of 1/3 vinegar with 2/3 water morning and night for three days. Painful sips of the mixture quickly gave way to an enjoyment of my new favorite drink; more a fan of the results than the flavor.
Thankfully, a group of guys in town approached me asking for help. They are starting an egg production project in town in hopes of selling to the local schools and would like advice Help you say! I can think of the perfect fee as fair trade; advice for fresh eggs. Now we are in business!!

Toloana & Me

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!