Traveling Hokie: 2013

Sunday, December 15, 2013

The week that wasn't

I had all kinds of plans for last week. I was coming home from MST/Gabs on Sunday, going to my friend’s village on Monday for a couple of days to help her put a fence up at the preschool she’s renovating, and then going to a Motswana friend’s wedding on Saturday, staying in Gabs again for the weekend.

Almost none of that actually happened.

Sunday afternoon I went to the hitching post in Letlhakeng, usually my final stop on the way back to my village. And waited. And waited. I waited three and a half hours, and NO vehicles were going to my village. There was a crowd of like 25 people under the hitching tree waiting for a ride and it was going to get dark. So I cut my losses, not willing to hitch home in the dark on a partially flooded dirt road, and stayed with another volunteer in Letlhakeng.

Monday morning I got a ride home, luckily in an SUV since it was raining. And raining. And raining. It rained a lot the week I was in Gabs at MST, and it just kept raining. Letlhakeng looked like a swamp in places. On the way to Aileen’s village I saw cows wading. I live in the desert people. Parts of it currently look like the Okavango Delta. If this is what rainy season is supposed to look like here, no wonder people said the rains didn’t really come last year. Because I promise, this did NOT happen last year.

My current desert.

Our school football pitch (soccer field)

It rained so much I wasn’t sure if I could get out of my village again (or if I wanted to try…), and my friend didn’t think we could build a fence in the mud anyway, so that didn’t happen.

I took a photo tour of my village near my house and school, complete with flooded field and destructive goats. I missed getting a picture of my neighbor digging a trench around her mud hut to keep it from flooding as much.

Standing water on the school grounds.

Trees down from a storm.

Lock your lockers or the goats mess things up a LOT.

The goats ate my homework.

Thursday I had a perimeter of goats around my house trying to keep dry in one of the storms. More pictures on that in a separate post.

Friday I went to Gabs, and Saturday I tried to go to my friend’s wedding. After getting to the village, finding someone else also looking for the wedding, walking around for an hour, and multiple phone calls… we realized we were in the wrong village. We were in Pitsane. The wedding was in Phitsane, or Phitsane Moloko. Which was another 2 hours or so farther from Gabs. It was noon when we figured this out (weddings last all day here), and by time I were to get to the correct village (which I’m still not even positive was the correct one), I would have to turn around and come back about 45 minutes later so I wouldn’t get back to Gabs super late. And I didn’t think there was public transport so I’d be relying on hitching. So I sighed and turned around and began my journey back to Gabs. I got back after 3, so I know that if I had tried to go all the way to the wedding I would have gotten back around 8 or 9, which was too late (we aren’t supposed to travel after dark for lots of reasons).

On the bright side, I got to hang out with a friend in Gabs this weekend as I stayed at her house and I also got to go to church this morning, which I haven’t been able to do since… July. So that was great, even though I didn’t make it to the wedding.

The interesting thing is… not much of what happened actually upset me. I just sighed and realized the weather/transportation/getting wrong info about the wedding were not things in my control, and moved on. Maybe I am culturally integrating ^_^

And I'm considering building an ark as a secondary project.

Madiba

Being in southern Africa is a unique experience in itself. Adding to that currently being in Gabs 20km from the South African border, for the passing of Nelson Mandela, and it’s witnessing history.

I want to refer to him as Madiba. I realize that most of the world knows him as Nelson Mandela, but Nelson was the English name he was given in school. My Setswana name in Botswana is Lesego (Leh-say-ho), but my real given name is Mary. So I want to refer to him as Madiba, his tribal name.

I don’t remember when in my life I learned who Madiba was. I certainly was not aware of historical events going on in South Africa during my childhood- his release from prison, rioting, the end of apartheid, his election, the Nobel Peace prize. To say that he is a national and international hero, especially here in southern Africa, is an understatement. He’s an important world figure in the US. In southern Africa, he’s one of the most important people ever to live.

I feel like I don’t know as much as I should about him. I went to Cape Town last summer with my mom and Carol, and we visited the Slave museum which had exhibits on Apartheid and the South African struggle for peace and shared power. We visited an exhibit at the town hall commemorating him for his 95^th birthday which he recently had. We attempted to visit Robbin Island, but the weather was bad so the ferry was canceled. I’m currently reading Long Walk to Freedom, and I saw the movie based on it a week ago, just after he passed.

What’s interested to me is that people seem to revere the Madiba of the last 20 years, and forget parts of his life from before he went to prison. He cheated on his first wife (and might have been abusive- the movie portrayed him that way). He spearheaded the arm of the African National Congress that moved away from strictly non-violence into trying to undermine the white government by setting fire to buildings and causing damage. He and the ANC were labeled a terrorist/terrorist organization for a long time. He was a radical.

From what I know, the work that he did in his life was invaluable to South Africa in their struggle for equality and a government of shared power. And he is known for so much of the work that he did after spending 27 years in prison. But what really stands out to me, is that he came out of prison a different person than the one that went in. He changed. He grew. He forgave people of crimes against him, his family, his friends, his people, that I can only imagine. And he realized that forgiveness was the only way.

The amount of world leaders that descended on South Africa for his funeral is tribute to the man he was, and the man he became. Some people are worried that without Mandela that South Africa is going to have renewed racial violence. The tension is still there. I hope with all of my heart that is not the case, because that is the complete opposite of what Madiba wanted. Like I said, it’s an interesting time to be only kilometers from South Africa.

Watching the movie last week, I was also struck by the amount of change that has occurred in South Africa in my lifetime. I’m only 30 years old. That gives me hope that maybe by the time I am 50 or 60, some of the other countries in Africa that are such a mess now, will have radically changed by then. As I read the headline that Mandela passed away on Friday, (Thursday night, but it was late here so I heard about it Friday morning), there was a smaller headline warning that Central African Republic could be headed for a genocide and that UN troops might be moving in. The work is never finished.

I’m also struck by how amazing it is to live in an African country that managed to avoid such a bloody struggle for independence and equality. There are plenty of things about Botswana that drive me crazy, I’m not saying we’re perfect here. But the contrast of what Botswana is and went through and what South Africa is and went through is stark. A lot of that is that the countries started with different resources, histories, and racial tensions. But I don’t take for granted the history of peace in this country.

The ironic thing about being where I am, in the Peace Corps in Botswana, is that I’m geographically close (relatively speaking) to what is going on in South Africa, but I live in the bush so I don’t have access to a lot of media coverage of it. I can get headlines and a few news stories, and when I’m in the capital for a day or to I can see some TV.

From what I’ve seen, the services for Madiba seem peaceful, reverent, and well attended. Yes, there is always going to be crazy things to detract from the real purpose, like the sign language scandal. But it’s neat to see the world mourn and remember such a great man, and coming together in the process to do so.

Peace is what you worked for your whole life Madiba. Rest now knowing you accomplished so much for so many, and left us a shining example of how to go forward with your work.

“No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than it’s opposite. “ ~ Nelson Mandela

Botho Festival

Some volunteers in Gabs (there are a bunch of volunteers that extended for a third year that live in Gabs) organized an art and craft festival with the theme of Botho. Botho is Botswana's national value of respect; I think it translates to 'I am because we are'.

So there were artists selling their crafts, lots of kids activities, and different things to raise awareness and celebrate Botho.

I helped by teaching kids (and some adults) to make friendship bracelets.

Singing and dancing for the kids.

My friend Kagiso from my village came to teach bracelet making too. I taught her all the patterns I know and she's already made up several of her own, trying to start a small business.

I managed to take the cutest picture on the planet.

Making bracelets.

Playing games led by Nina.

A cool art sculpture of a Baibab tree made from used ARV (anti-retro virals, HIV medicine) bottles.

It was a fun day and gave me an excuse to stay in Gabs an extra day after IST :)

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Mid-Service Training

This past week my group, Bots 13, had our mid-service training in Gabs.

We had actual training Wed-Fri, but there was also a lot of hanging out.

Interactive planning and evaluation sessions.

You know you are a PCV when...

It was great to see a lot of my friends that I don't see very often because our villages are far apart.

We got to eat a lot of good food, and had a little party at the end.

Some awesome peoples

They drew microphones on their fingers :)

There was dancing

Steph might kill me for posting this.

All in all, a fun week in the capital with friends.

Our group doesn't even pretend to be normal anymore :)

And some of us are giving the hunger games salute, not saluting Hitler. Just fyi :)

Thanksgiving

I didn't exactly have a traditional Thanksgiving.

My school had a staff wellness day on Wednesday, but the food didn't come on time, so we had the food on Thanksgiving.

So I got a Thanksgiving feast of Setswana food.

My teachers thought it was funny that I wanted my picture taken with my plate of food.

Seswa (pounded beef), coleslaw, beet, potato salad, and rice.

I also got to talk to my dad's entire side of the family on Thursday night, because they had dinner at my mom's house. That made my day/week/month.

After the AIDS walk on Saturday, I went to my friend Luis' village for a more traditional Thanksgiving dinner with a bunch of other PCVs. We had a ton of food, including turkey, Jambalaya, veggies, mac'n'cheese, and 2 pies. It was amazing.

There was also a baby cow on Luis' compound.

Apparently it's mom died so the family is trying to bottle feed it until it's big enough to stay with the herd. Currently it's about the size of a dog. We named it Mooster. Mooster liked to follow us everywhere, including in the house, which is a problem since he's not house-broken. (I mean, he is a cow.) So we keep hearing/yelling "Cow!! Cow out of the house!!" Mooster also has a habit of sneaking up behind you and sticking his face between your legs trying to nurse. This makes sense, as that is where vows keep their milk. But for humans it's a little disconcerning and hilarious to watch.

Mooster

Sunday morning we took a tour of Luis' village, starting with the 1000 year old Baobab tree.

We also saw some one-two thousand year old rock paintings.

Giraffes!

His village is really pretty. After the rock paintings most of us headed to Gabs for medical stuff before our training later in the week.

World AIDS Day March

I visited a couple of PCVs in Thamaga (Ta-ma-ha) on November 30th and went to their World AIDS day march. World AIDS day is officially December 1st, but there are usually events all over the country for a few days before and after, especially since it fell on a Sunday this year,

Botswana has a vision for 2016, when the country will be 50 years old. No new HIV infections, no AIDS related deaths (get everyone ARVs who needs them), and no HIV related stigma.

Sandy, Jorge and I made the cardboard signs the night before and different people carried them.

We walked for a little under an hour, so maybe a few kilometers through Thamaga.

It was a small but committed group, and I think we made enough noise and slowed down traffic enough that people took notice.

Jorge was the official photographer.

When you are tackling a problem as big as HIV, in a country where almost 25% of the population is infected, and everyone is affected, you do lots of things, big and small, and hope they add up to make a difference.