6 MONTHS! That's longer than most of my relationships...

Let's be honest, three weeks in Lesotho would have been longer than most of my relationships. 

Where to begin?? Sooo much has happened in the past two months. Two months!?! I honestly hadn’t realized it had been two months since I had posted until I pulled up my last entry; time flies when you don’t have access to internet (sarcasm).

           

            The agenda: Teaching, Phase III Training, Easter vacation and much more. I apologize in advance for the length of this post. Interesting fact, I just realized thanks to auto-correct that my spelling is quickly deteriorating (as if it wasn’t bad enough to begin with).

Teaching:

            Ugh. I love it and I hate it. I wonder (a lot of the time) how much good I am actually doing for these children. They may be improving their English skills because of my presence, but I can’t shake the feeling that they are missing so many basic concepts in class just because they cannot understand me.

           

            I have recently been working on directed numbers and solving equations with my Form B Math class (I’m not sure if I mentioned this before but the Basotho call it Maths because it is really mathematics not mathematic). I think I have spent over a month on those two topics alone. I gave them a test a few weeks ago in which they absolutely bombed. I had three students do better than 50%...

           

            So, I decided to change my teaching tactics; I asked the other Math teacher, ‘M’e Lepelesana, to come in and re-teach the information. What I learned: I may talk too fast (still), I may cover content too quickly (still), and I use different methods for long division and multiplication-who knew? Anyway, my teachers like to call this Team Teaching. ‘M’e Lepelesana has since asked me to come to her Form C Math class and Team Teach. She likes my methods of problem solving and is able to clarify to the students the difference between the way I do things and the way they have previously been taught. It works well (I think). The students like it and I had 16 people pass my quarter exam, up from the 3 who passed the last test. One student even got a 90%! Success!

           

            It’s not all work though, there is a little play. I should start by explaining that there is a hierarchy in the school just like any in the U.S. The Form C students have seniority and the Form A students are the freshmen. Traditionally, the Form A students are called dogs until they have been officially welcomed by the school. The school holds a Welcoming Ceremony, usually in March, to welcome all the Form A students and any new Form B or C students. I would liken it to Homecoming in many ways; they have a silly dress day, an official ceremony, a nice meal, and finally, what everyone has been waiting for, a dance.

           

            Thursday of that week students came to school in absurd costumes. I was able to share a cultural note with them, explaining Homecoming and how we did the same thing, dressing up all week long and preparing for the Friday night events. I was able to show them pictures of Joy and me dressed up Senior year in togas and 80’s clothing. Thank you Joy! I owe you for the pics. They came in handy as more than just good memories. The students enjoyed it immensely, commenting on how beautiful Joy was and how fat I had been. Yup!

           

            Friday morning rolled around; thankfully I was up and had bathed early because at 5 am ‘M’e Lepelesana came to my door to tell me we were going to start cooking. The teachers were responsible for cooking because there is only one cook and the students were to eat something more than just papa and moroho for lunch that day (keep in mind nobody told me any of this). We set the kitchen up in one of the classrooms and spent the morning peeling pumpkins and carrots, chopping onions, boiling chicken and rice, and packaging sweets for the students. Needless to say the students didn’t have school that day but they were still expected to be at school at 9 am. I’m not exactly sure why.

           

            The actual welcome event didn’t actually start until 3 or 4 in the afternoon. It was supposed to start at 11 so the students could eat soon after. There are many reasons it kept getting pushed back, such as no petrol for the generator, no speakers for music, it was raining, and finally, because the other teachers had to go get cleaned up after a long morning of cooking, which of course means they needed to iron their clothing still. Africa time.

           

            Anyway, the welcome event finally started and took a little over an hour. As far as I could tell it was just a talent show with traditional dances, poems, karaoke and modeling, but at the end a Form A student was selected from the group and taken outside the classroom. A couple Form C students unrolled a large paper with a long tailed dog drawn on it. The Form A student was blindfolded and brought back in. The goal was for him to take a pen and ‘cut the tail’ off the dog. Don’t worry; I captured this all on video. The room erupted in cheers and screams, with students trying to tell him where to draw the pen in order to cut the tail. This is how the Form A students rise from being ‘dogs’ to being an accepted part of the school.

           

            After the welcome event was over the students were finally able to eat (lunch turned into dinner). Now, the fun part begins. There is a dance that accompanies the welcome event. Typically, in the states, dances end at 11 or 11:30 pm. That doesn’t happen here (or at least not at my site). Since it is too dangerous for students to walk home in the dark at night, they are confined to the school all night long. The dance continued until daylight. So, one would think that there were chaperones supervising the dance but what ended up happening was all the older teachers decided to go to bed around 10 and it was left up to us younger teachers, Ntate Motaung, ‘M’e Lepelesana and me to stay up and supervise. I have choice word for how I felt about that but I won’t share them here. Additionally, in the U.S. only students are allowed into school dances, right? Not here. Anyone and their brother were allowed inside the school grounds, not to mention, they were all three sheets to the wind. And that was okay.

           

            It gets better. I had planned on going into town (Quthing) that weekend so once the dance ended at 5:30 am my supervisor wanted to leave. We got our luggage loaded into the pickup along with a piglet that was to be delivered to a police officer in town (the pig is relevant, I promise) and were ready to leave by 6. We made it about ¾ of a mile down the road before my supervisor realized she had forgotten her wallet with her license in it, so we had to go back. We reversed almost all the way back down the road before the pig in the back decided he wasn’t happy and decided to jump out. Thankfully, I was wearing my nice, warm leather boots because the next 1½  hours were spent chasing this @%$& pig through a cornfield. Remember, I had just spent all night supervising a school dance. T.I.A.

           

Phase III Training:

            Peace Corps works in Phases. The first two months, Phase I, was Pre-Site Training, PST—lots of acronyms, it’s a government organization. The first three months at site was considered Phase II. They give us assignments to work on in order to help us get out into our communities and integrate. We were also confined to our districts, forbidden to travel extensively. Finally, Phase III is a completion of training. We were all reunited in our training villages for a week of general training where we were able to discuss problems we were encountering at our sites and get different perspectives on how to deal with them along with new teaching tips. Some of us also had to be re-tested in language capability (that would include me, even though my region speaks Sexhosa not Sesotho- however, I passed with flying colors!). 

           

            Being back in our training villages was bittersweet. It was good to see the people who took us in during the hardest transitioning time, but it was a little more of a challenge for some. Bed bugs were a major issue for more than one volunteer, as was the food considering the number of people with bowel issues. Thankfully, it was only a week.

           

            Seeing everyone again was wonderful. Though our training villages had been fairly clearly separated during PST the gaps seemed to narrow during Phase III training. This could be due to the fact that we have lost 4 volunteers already or just our realization of how much we really need each other for support. Whatever its cause, I am happy about the change.

           

            To celebrate the end of all our training, Peace Corps staff took us into South Africa to a town called Ladybrand where we had lunch at a place called Living Life. The food was absolutely amazing. Considering the food we’ve been eating for the past 6 months I think anything would have been welcomed, but really, the food was amazing! After lunch, vacation commenced!

Easter vacation:

            Easter vacation started with all of us volunteers from the training village of Berea, Tishina, Teresa, Janelle, Aparna, Nick and me, went to Teresa’s in Leribe to stay the night. From there we met up with all the other volunteers going to Durban in Maputsoe, crossed the border of SA and started our journey to Durban. We took public transport all the way to Durban in a combie, 12 people plus luggage completely filled the combie. Usually they pack the combie past the point of comfort but thanks to James and his ability to sweet talk the local people into amazing deals, it was a pleasant trip.

           

            The next 6 days were spent beside the warm Indian Ocean, enjoying the sun, eating to our hearts content and relaxing with no connection to the outside world. Literally. It took us 5 days to be able to get SA sim cards for our phones so we were off the grid completely.

           

            I also made it to Easter Sunday mass at a local Durban Catholic Church. The mass lasted 21/2 hours and we got to see 15+ people baptized. Mom would be proud. I successfully completed lent; I attended the first week of lent mass and Easter Sunday mass, gave up electricity, running water, cell service, and McDonalds. Impressive. I think I’ll do it for lent again next year. 

           

            I have more to say about my Durban vacation but I feel this post has reached its limit. I hope everyone is doing well and I have to say I MISS YOU ALL SO MUCH! Seeing volunteers here in country after only 3 months apart was incredible. I didn’t realize how much I had missed them, so I can only imagine how it will be to reunite with so many people that I love in two years.

           

            Again, if you have anything in particular that you would like to know about my experience in Lesotho just send me an e-mail. I’ll try my best to fill you in as soon as I can! Hopefully it won’t be another 2 months before I post!

           

            Enjoy the summer months for me because I am about to endure a long winter with no central heating. 

    With Love!        

            Sadie

           

           

           

MMM! Lijo limonate! (d-jo d-mo-naté)

I have had several requests for information about the traditional food in Lesotho thus I would like to address this topic thoroughly, it’s fascinating:

           

            Let me begin with the most popular meal, papa and moroho. Papa is the staple starch in the diets of the Basotho. It is served at literally every meal. It is made out of maize meal, it is white, and it has the consistency of extremely stiff porridge. You can cut through it with a fork. Moroho is any leafy green or cabbage that is boiled down to the point that it no longer contains any nutrients. Then, many times, it is saturated with salt. It actually resembles the canned spinach the schools used to try to force feed us as children in primary school. Strangely, this combination has grown on me.

           

            The second staple meal is linaoa le bohobe, or beans and bread. Pretty strait forward. Beans. Bread. What more do you need? The beans are seasoned and slightly soupy. Considering I wouldn’t touch beans until two months before I left the states (my mom can attest to that statement) I think it is a minor miracle that I enjoy them so much now.

           

            Next, there is a meal called stamp or setampe. It consists of maize, corn (yes, it seems there is a difference), and beans cooked in some sort of goopyness or creaminess (I don’t know, it’s thick and it’s grey, that’s the best I can do at describing it). Again, surprisingly satisfying.

           

            Lesheleshele or motoho are the typical breakfast fare. Lesheleshele is a soft porridge while motoho is considered a sour porridge. If there is enough sugar in it motoho is definitely satisfying. I’m not sure how they make motoho, but if I understand correctly it involves leaving the porridge to sit for a few days in water (or something) so that it sours, then cooking it. I’ll give a full explanation as soon as the teachers show me how to make it like they promised.

           

            Finally, and this is possibly the most disturbing (I haven’t developed a taste for this yet), there is papa and lebese, also known as papa and milk. Keep in mind the milk is full fat milk (nearly cream) packaged in cardboard boxes. This is what the schools feed the primary students every Friday for lunch. Papa and milk. Only.

           

            As for protein, there is often chicken involved in one meal or another. Because the school I work at cannot afford to provide the children with meat during the week the primary students are given hard-boiled eggs with one or two weekly meals. However, as soon as the girls reach puberty (considered secondary school) they are no longer given hard-boiled eggs due to the belief that eating eggs makes girls horny and loose. Yup.

           

            Another interesting fact: I recently acquired a massive burn on my arm from trying to turn the bohobe (bread) I was baking. Baking on a gas stove is a completely different experience in itself. I’ve learned many new tricks and skills as far as baking goes. Anyway, the point of this is that when I walked into the staff room the following morning the bo-‘M’e began talking about how I was becoming a true Mosotho; how I would be a great wife because, apparently, the more burns a woman has on her forearms, the better she is at cooking. I don’t quite understand the connection.

           

            Moving on, it is hard to believe I have been in Lesotho for 4 months already. Soon it will be 6 months; then a year will have passed without the blink of an eye. School keeps me occupied, and trips to Quthing every few weekends break up the weeks. There always seems to be something happening even though I am so rural.

           

            This week, for example, my school has had several visits from a local couple that wants to build housing for students at my school. This is extremely exciting for several reasons; many of the students have to walk up to 8 miles to school each morning, the funding is local, and the school desperately needed housing to draw in more students from surrounding areas. The schools tend to compete for students in order to gain recognition from the government. More students means more recognition which means more funding. Speaking of more students, each of my classes has grown by 7 to 10 students each since the last time I wrote. They just keep showing up!

           

            I also gave my first round of tests this week. I have completed grading and recording my Form B mathematics tests. So far, out of 43 students, 11 passed. Fifty percent is considered passing. I didn’t feel so bad after I found out the other mathematics teacher only had 13 of her Form A students pass. I really hope these students are learning as much from me as I am learning from them.  

            I will close for now. Thanks to all who are keeping up with my adventure. It means the world to me. Never worry, I am enjoying myself and learning so much at the same time. Who knew learning could be fun? I hope you will all keep me updated on life in the states as well. I can’t tell you how happy I get to hear about what is going on at home. Mom keeps me updated as much as possible but she can only do so much. But again, thank you for the support! 

Love from the Mountain Kingdom of Lesotho,

Sadie

Oh! one last thing, as the days begin to get shorter and the nights a little colder I am beginning to think bathing everyday is going to be difficult. I'll keep you all updated. No worries. At least I still shave my underarms. 

I thought I was finished with school...

            It seems like no time has passed since I last wrote but at the same time it seems like it has been weeks...oh right, it has. I am now an official teacher, having completed two weeks of instruction at Tiping Secondary School. The school year commenced with a faculty meeting held the day before the first day of classes, parents registering their sons and daughters for school the first week of class (and some even during the second week) instead of during break when the office was open, as well as herd-boys showing up a week late due to ‘traditional schools’ (I’m not exactly sure what goes on when they are attending traditional school but I’ve heard rumors that they are taught how to take care of their wives, among other things, and they also get circumcised-- because you aren’t a man if you haven’t been circumcised).

           

            Back on topic. Sort of. I remember being taught in school that in many Latin cultures it is customary to arrive late to any social event, and we dubbed it ‘Latin time’. Welcome to ‘African time’. Our LCFs during training explained to us that where Americans believe time equals money, the Basotho people believe it is better late than never. If you can imagine, my first week of classes began without a timetable drawn up for classes. I am fully embracing this ‘African time’ though. I am learning to roll with the punches (corny! But true). I didn’t know what classes I was teaching or when I was teaching that first Monday until 6 pm on Sunday, and that was a tentative schedule. I didn’t know what or when I was teaching on Tuesday until Tuesday morning. Catch my drift?

           

            Needless to say, everything worked out in the end. No need to sweat the small stuff (wow, I am full of cute little colloquialisms today). So, the first day went smoothly enough. I think the Form B class (equivalent of 9^th grade) was almost able to keep up that first day, but I’m pretty sure the Form A class was lost. When asked by another teacher why they were so quiet in my class they replied that they didn’t know English.

           

            In addition to not knowing what time to teach, and when, and where, one of the teachers decided, on a whim, the first day, that I should take another class in order to be well rounded in the Forms. Thus, I am now teaching Life Skills to a Form C class (honestly, not a bad amendment because I originally wanted the chance to teach Life Skills anyway). Life Skills is an odd compilation of mental and physical health, social skills, environmental issues (??), and social issues like population growth and poverty. It also places a heavy emphasis on HIV/AIDS awareness and prevention. For those who had no idea, like myself, Lesotho is the 3^rd worst country in the world for percentage of population infected with HIV.   

           

            The remainder of the week passed without incident. I’m not entirely sure yet how many students I have in each class though. It fluctuates from day to day. I think I have around 40 Form A students, maybe 35 Form B students, and possibly 35 Form C students. My Form A class has started to warm up and my Form B class has begun playing tricks on me. Whether or not the students understand me is still up for debate. I sent a From A student to retrieve the class’ exercise books from my desk, as I had finished grading them. He left the room and returned empty handed. When I asked him where the books were he told me, in broken English, they weren’t there. After class I returned to my desk and found the books precisely where I had left them. The teacher who sits next to me informed me that a student had come in looking for my box but it wasn’t there…

           

            For those interested, the school day is set up in 40-minute periods. There are ten periods on Monday, nine Tuesday through Thursday, and six on Friday. There is a twenty-minute break after the third period of the day, and an hour for lunch after the sixth. Often, because Math, Science, English and Sesotho have seven periods a week, they are turned into double periods—80-minute classes. Way too long. If any of my former teachers happen to be reading this, I would welcome suggestions for making this bearable for 8^th and 9^th grade students who have to sit through 80-minute lectures after lunch.

           

            Every morning at 7:45 the students line up for Assembly. This is by far my favorite part of the day simply because the Basotho can sing! Honestly, singing is innate for them. They begin singing in their cribs. It is absolutely beautiful. If I could take these children to the States, they would put every pop artist to shame. They would be rich--no doubt in my mind. Anyway, they begin the assembly with a song, normally a hymn. The hymn is followed by a reading of scripture which is then interpreted by the student who read the passage. Finally, they close with the Lord’s Prayer and any announcements for the day from the faculty. Now, here is the catch: I work at a government school.

            I will close for now as this is becoming another lengthy post. If there are any topics that you would like to hear about please post a comment and I will be more than happy to fill you in! I hope all are well! Family and friends are constantly on my mind. Thank you all for your support!

Best wishes,

Sadie 

Greetings from Lesotho!

(Please overlook any grammatical errors or redundancies—I didn’t have my sister proof read anything!)

            I have been in country for almost three months now and haven’t had the opportunity, until now, to share my experiences with anyone but family. I think it is safe to say I am getting a ‘true Peace Corps’ experience, as the volunteers put it. There is nothing ‘posh-corps’ about my situation. Let me explain.

           

            I arrived in Lesotho with 22 new acquaintances on October 14^th (or 15^th—its all a little hazy after over 24 hours of traveling). We were immediately split into three groups upon our arrival at the Lesotho airport and ushered to three separate villages in the Berea District (Lesotho has 10 districts, similar to the 50 united states, but much smaller considering Lesotho is approximately the size of West Virginia), our training villages. We spent 9 weeks in training, learning Sesotho (the local language), how to teach, and self-health and safety techniques.

           

            English is the primary language in all secondary schools (equivalent to 8^th, 9^th, and 10^th grades) in Lesotho because all their exit exams (graduating exams) are English based: Cambridge tests. Thus, I get to teach Math and Science in English. However, Sesotho is necessary for my everyday life, interacting with the local people.

           

            Approximately a month into training, we were each given our permanent site placements. It was at that point that I learned I would have an additional challenge to cope with, one that other volunteers do not; I would be required to learn another language, Xhosa (the X is a click, by the way). I have been placed in one of the southern districts, Quthing (the Q is a click as well), in the rural mountains where the people take pride in their Xhosa heritage. This is difficult for multiple reasons, the first being I have to learn ANOTHER language. Enough said. More importantly, this is difficult because the students I will be teaching have learned English as a third language (instead of their second like at many other students at other schools) and have been particularly sheltered from extensive use of English considering they live in such a rural area. It also doesn’t help that their teachers (who should be teaching all secondary classes in English-by decree of the Ministry of Education) often teach in Sesotho in order to get their point across. This is particularly harmful to the students because, as I mentioned before, all their exit exams are English based.

           

            Okay, so we finished training, all 23 of us, and swore in as official Peace Corps Volunteers on December 12^th, 2011. Swearing in is a big deal. Peace Corps invited our host communities during training to attend, there were Ministry Officials present and the ceremony was even broadcast on television in Lesotho. Even bigger, our host communities prepared a feast for after the ceremony where they actually killed a cow. That’s a BIG deal.

           

            How rural is rural? I don’t have running water or electricity. I expected as much. Many volunteers don’t. However, most volunteers who don’t have electricity can access it at their school. If the school doesn’t have it at least they can go to a local shop where they can charge their electronics for 5 Maluti (the local currency). I can’t. My father loves to tell me ‘I told you so’(and I’m sure Uncle Berry is getting a good chuckle out of this). Thankfully, I have a small solar charger to hold me over! It charges everything except my computer. Additionally, where most volunteers have cell phone coverage, I don’t. I speak to my parents on the phone when I make trips into my local camp town (equivalent to a capital city) once or twice a month (still trying to work out a system). Doesn’t this just sound better and better? But there’s more! I get to use a latrine! And! I have mastered the art of ‘bucket bathing,’ which consists of boiling water, pouring it in a small basin, and tempering it with cold water. Yay! Don’t worry, I haven’t given up bathing everyday…yet.

The Holidays

            Though I have been experiencing many changes to everyday life since arriving in Lesotho, I recently passed a milestone in my life, my first Christmas without my family. Skipping the emotional details, I spent the holiday with 12 other volunteers in Quthing camp town where another volunteer, Tishina, lives and works (you’ll be hearing more about Tishina because she is the closest volunteer to me and I will be staying at her house whenever I visit the camp town because she has running water, which means a flushing toilet, and electricity!!!). All 13 of us squeezed into her tiny house, utilizing our sleeping bags and pads to the fullest. It was a joyful reunion for many of us new volunteers, as we had been at our site for an ENTIRE week with no one but the Basotho people to talk to (that’s supposed to be funny). We cooked, we sang, we even danced with Tishina’s drunken host family. Where Christmas is traditionally a calm, family holiday in the U.S., Christmas for the Basotho includes family and an excess of alcohol multiple days in a row. Another cultural note: the women in Lesotho do not drink in public. Period. It is commonplace to see drunken Bo-ntate (men) roaming around on a daily basis, but not women. Christmas is the exception J. Needless to say it was a Christmas to remember. I even got a package in the mail from mom and dad on Christmas Eve!

            I returned to my site shortly after Christmas only to turn around and have visitors for New Years. Although I am more than an hour from the nearest blacktop road, Tishina and another volunteer and friend from my training village, Aparna, made the trip out to Tiping to celebrate. It was by far the most low-key New Years I have ever had. Next year promises to be much different if mom and pop Nelson decide to visit!

            Finally, school is scheduled to start on the 16^th of January. I am soon going to have my hands full trying to find clever ways of communicating important topics to students who will probably only understand a third of what I say. I need as much support as I can get, and your prayers can only help!

            Keep in mind this was but a brief overview of what has happened to me in the past three months. Though I have many adjustments to make, I am content with where I am and anxious to start teaching. I am ready for this challenge!

             I do miss many things right now, like hot showers (never again will I take a shower for granted), a flushing toilet (oddly, this is easier to live without—but still…), electricity, cellular service, and many food items (particularly quality cheese and wine), but none of that compares to how much I miss the people in my life who are constantly sending me so much support and love. I wish the best for all of you and hope this new year is promising and fruitful.

With love and gratitude,

Sadie

P.S. Check out a couple photos I posted at the bottom of the blog (my Flicker account). It's not much and I reduced the photo quality, but hopefully it gives you a little bit of an idea. More to come!!

Address for Sadie

Hi, It's Sadie's dad again. We talked with Sadie on Christmas Eve. She was in the camp town of Quthing in a house that has electricity and a cell signal. We haven't talked with her in about two weeks. She was assigned a post about 25 to 30 miles (an hours drive on dirt roads) southwest of Quthing. She will be the first Peace Corps volunteer for this community and will be teaching math and sciences to 8th, 9th and 10th graders - mainly girls. She is adjusting well and sounded good on the phone. She just got a cat to keep in her dwelling to help control mice. It is a little kitten that she named Ralphie in honor of the little boy who wanted the BB gun in A Christmas Story - one of our family favorite movies during the holidays.

She doesn't have regular access to the internet and when she does the cost is prohibitive for a lot of blogging and posting, so it might be spotty as to what goes up on this blog. We do have an address for her if you would like to write. Here it is:

Sadie Nelson, PCV
U.S. Peace Corps
P.O. Box 495
Alwyn'skop 720
Quthing 700
Lesotho
South Africa

I'm sure she will appreciate any letters.
Rusty

Group Photo

Sadie sent this picture to us today via email. Looks like a good group. Rusty

Taking off

I'm standing in as blog poster until Sadie can get online. She made it to Lesotho safe and sound. She said in our 3 minute phone call that she won't have phone or internet access for eight weeks. The flight over was almost 16 hours  I have a couple of pics the morning she left with myself and Arletta. She was all excited to get her adventure started and taking these pictures reminded her of our tradition of taking pictures on the first day of school. I know her mother and I were a lot sadder than we look in the pictures. Rusty