Monday, January 23, 2012

The Great Toilet Dilemma

When we arrived here in April we met our families in a matching ceremony, then went home with them for the weekend. When we arrived back to training on Monday, we debriefed about our time with our host families.  Many things were discussed, but toilets topped the list for some trainees.
Some people had pit latrines (“out houses”) and no toilets in their house. This meant that if they had to go at night, they had to venture outside into the dark and unknown and leave their precious body parts exposed to whatever might be lurking in the latrine.  These people had little patience for anyone who had a flushing toilet and a complaint of any sort.
We had one volunteer, who was serving with his wife. They were an older, well off couple. It was clearly his lifelong dream to join the Peace Corps.  He came back after the weekend wondering if it would be appropriate to purchase their host family (aka his wife) a new toilet seat.  Apparently the host family, even though living in a clearly nice home, didn’t have a proper toilet seat and lid. I think we all suggested he not rush out and do that  - they might take offense and he and his wife were supposed to be living in the house the way it was, not perform any home makeovers during their stay.
My host family also didn’t have such things but I had already decided it put to rest once and for all the main argument men and women have about toilets.  Such toilets might revolutionize life as we know it at home. If we could get people to all agree to rip their toilet seats and covers right off, it would amount to a revolutionary act.  I am not saying I am in favor of no toilet seats or covers, I am just saying it has a bright side.
Fast forward to about a month ago, when my toilet seat/cover combo’s remaining plastic bolt holding them to the toilet finally broke.  Both of the bolts were iffy when I arrived, so I had babied them. I mean you really don’t have to throw yourself onto the toilet each time.  I blame my landlord’s son for the coup de grace during my trip to Germany while he stayed at the house to take care of the cats. 
So there I am, with a Botswana toilet. The seat and lid are in perfectly good shape, so I set out to find replacement bolts. Should be easy, right?  Welp, nope.  One shop has a new toilet seat/lid combo for P35, but doesn’t sell bolts. I don’t want to have to carry the old combo down the road to the nearest waste receptacle, so I keep looking.  Plus, why replace the whole thing when I just need the bolts? Another shop has the seat/lid combo too, but they also sell the bolts.  Yeah! But the bolt set costs P57, the seat combo only P40. How is this possible?!
Now I know why so many people don’t have proper seats and lids. Their sense of fairness and understanding of what else P57 could by them requires they not spend more money on bolts that seats. As long as bolts cost more, this country will slowly divest itself of proper toilet sets.  And it just isn’t in homes, but public places.  I think probably when people’s sense of fairness battles and loses with their thrifty desire to have a decent seat they end up stealing bolts from existing public toilets.  I ponder the possibilities. With a handful of Peace Corps volunteers arriving in a week or so for my birthday bash, we will be able to continue the discussion regarding toilets, and/or they will see I have fully acclimated.

Rain, Smain

My niece Kaitlyn still wants shorter posts. So for those of you who agree, you have her to thank. Here it is. Woke up. Drizzly day. Happy with Rain coat and umbrella, long pants leather shoes. More drizzle.
Rain cleared. Stayed cool.  Worked hard. Left work at 4:45 for a meeting. Drizzle again. I think: I would take a drizzly day with an umbrella to stop the rain over an umbrella to stop the 100+ degrees any day.  Told the passing donkey same thing. Drizzle now torrential downpour.
Put backpack under raincoat, pulled up hood and started walking the 1.9 miles. Looked like the hunchback from ND.  Umbrella superfluous. Rain at a straight angle to my knees. Dirt road now slimy, slippery ponds. Flying onto my ass very possible. Alone on road except a few cars that shared with me their muddy spray.
Bunch of boys playing soccer on a field of mud. Quite happy.  My opinion of rain vs. sun slowly changing. Retry the umbrella, now that the thunder and lightning gone. Helpful. Not as helpful as when I wasn’t soaked from head to toe.  Shoes sounding like galoshes. Orthotic insert bending where it shouldn’t, so I took it out and shoved it into my coat.
Walked on damn dam and did a mighty slipping and almost falling maneuver. I am not sure anyone would have seen me fall in, if I had. If the cows and goats aren’t up there in the rain, there is a good reason.
15 minutes late to the meeting and no one was there. Not dumb enough to walk in this storm. It would end about 30 minutes after it started.  True enough, 30 minutes after I left work, I got home and the rain stopped. Went into house and took all my clothes off. I closed the door first. No point frightening the neighborhood kids.
Will now defend a Motswana’s inalienable right to be 30 minutes late to any meeting scheduled to start remotely close to the same time a rain storm does. Not sure what the excuse is on sunny days. Someone else will need to champion that cause.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Sunsets and Mangos

I wonder if people living here are able to appreciate the beautiful sunrises and sunsets in the midst of all the challenges they face.  I had this thought this morning at 5:30 as I watched the sunrise while waiting to meet Cathrine to give her bus fare to go to Gabs to get xrays for Erto, then I had it again just now watching the sunset.
I just finished talking to a woman who came to my gate while I was picking mangos. The mangos so far have mostly gone to local children. I just finished eating my first one; a small sweet piece of deliciousness. I am still waiting for one of the big ones to ripen before I give them all away.  After she and I spoke, I gave her the two mangos I had just pulled off the tree for myself.
She was one of the women I wrote about recently regarding the nice basic but completely in Setswana conversation. Today she came to me to talk about her child, who at two years old was sick with meningitis and has been suffering the consequences for the last 8 years. This child can’t speak or do anything for herself. She is in a wheelchair and attends Camphill – the part for the younger kids.  But today, the driver didn’t come to pick her up.  He was someone the mother had hired in the village, but after one day of it decided he she was too heavy and he couldn’t do it. 
Now this woman is a small little thing, who is lifting her daughter in and out of the wheelchair, in and out of bed, etc. etc. every day, so we know it can be done.  I have seen people at home lift adults who weigh a lot more than she must, if they do it the right way.  So either this driver is lazy, is afraid of being around someone so disabled, or is just a sorry ass weakling. Wait, he is a sorry ass no matter what the reason.
I listened to her and just felt my heart sink. How can I help her? She loves her child so much and works anyway she can to make money to care for her.  She was a volunteer at the home based care program until it closed at the end of November due to lack of funds (due to alleged poor management, but I don’t know for sure).  Then, she was paid maybe P1000 (maybe just over $150) a month to care for people in the community who needed help. Now she still does the work but does it for free and then tries to find “piece” jobs here and there. Her husband just lost his job of two years – a construction job that finally ended.
My wheels started turning, trying to find an answer.  Maybe this guy just needs some education and training? Maybe the combi sitting parked at the home based care building, un-used, can be leased or loaned to Camphill and they can hire a driver who these families (there are others who can’t get there) can use to get their kids to school. Since school is free, the parents are told they have to cover the transportation, but if no one in the village is willing to transport these kids, then what?
My wheels are turning and I will research it more when I am back at the office. I wish I had a car and was allowed to drive it.  If this woman can’t get this child to the school for the 4 hours of school she attends, then this woman can’t leave the home to work and they will have nothing.  It makes no sense to me that a school that is free doesn’t just provide transportation as well. They get paid by the government (which is why the school is free). Isn’t the cost of transportation included? This reminds me of Adult Day Health Care in a way, with the challenges we had with transportation getting and keeping vehicles and drivers, etc.
It breaks my heart, and the two mangos I gave her don’t begin to cover it.

Happy Birthday Kaitlyn

Yesterday was my niece Kaitlyn’s birthday. She turned 12. I received an early morning text from her today (while it was still her birthday there) saying she read some of my blog and it was too long and that I should mention her but in a SHORT blog story.  Yeah, some of them are too long, but this one won’t be. 
Kaitlyn, I am so jealous of the gift you are going to receive from me soon. If you don’t like it, you can give it back to me when you see me again. If I had it here, people would be so jealous of me. I hope you had a great birthday. I know it wasn’t nearly as great as it would have been if I were there with you and I will make it up to you on future birthdays. Although the present I send really makes up for my not being there. And again, if you don’t think so, you can give it back to me when you see me again.
Well…since this is supposed to be short….oh…I have given my cat Sisi a new Setswana name “Shesophatso.”  It isn’t really Setswana, just sounds like it. But she is so fat now so….
I just ate a mango from my mango tree. It was delicious.  I have only eaten two so far, most of them have gone to the owner of the home and the neighborhood kids.  I have been giving them away, but finally took the last 10 or so big ones and brought them in the house to share with people as I wish. Good thing too, because yesterday a gang of young boys, who have never talked to me at all, were in the garden heading for the tree with the last of the smaller type mangos on it.  When I came out, they scattered, but hung out just outside my gate waiting for me to leave.
I had a friend of mine tell them that if they went into my garden now while I was gone and took my remaining mangos, they could kiss coming to the party on the 4th goodbye.  Well, not in those exact words and I don’t know whether she really even told them or not. The fact is, I am not going to turn them away because I won’t recognize them anyway, and that would be unkind, but still, they hit my “Irritated” button. I have not refused giving a mango to anyone who asks nicely, since really, they aren’t “my” mangos. These boys just needed to ask me. Hmph. If I were at home I would now fear they would tp my house some night.  No such fears. TP doesn’t get wasted like that around here.
Okay. There you have it. A (relatively) short post. For one of my short relatives.


Monday, January 9, 2012

2011 In Review

2011 In Review. Are you sitting down? This is a long one.
2011 went by so quickly. When I look back at it, my head starts to spin.  The months of January  through March were spent: packing up my home, divesting myself of some of my belongings, finding great renters for my house, guardians or new parents for all my pets, preparing to leave my job of almost 12 years at the Humboldt Senior Resource Center, turning my legal and financial life over to my brother, and finally, saying goodbye to colleagues, friends, and family. Oh yeah, and trying to decide what to bring with me, and repacking and scaling back as I moved first out of my home to my sister’s and/or Stan’s for a few days, then from there to my mother’s  for a few more days before flying out to Philadelphia for staging. I still ended up having my mom send me things and as you might guess, some things I brought have been totally worthless, others lifesavers. It’s a crap shoot, to be sure but I am finding myself well suited to having less, rather than more.
I had a wonderful party before I left where I said goodbye to some of my most special friends and supporters. All the love and support you have shown me has been so important.  Many of you have done some truly amazing things to help me along my journey, whether with cash support, purchases of things I couldn’t live without, packages to remind me of home, letters, emails, e-cards,  and Facebook contact, or simply my knowing you are there reading my blog and wishing me success.  You know who you are and I love you for it.
So far, I have no serious regrets about my decision. Some minor ones, yes. Like giving away the clothing that was too small for me and I figured would never fit me again.  Now that I am down to 144 lbs, having lost 20 lbs. (gads!) since arriving here, I really miss that beautiful grey skirt. I also regret not having more shoes that I can walk miles and miles in, but I have two pair that seem to work – one for winter and one for summer, so it’s mostly okay.
In early April, our group of 39 arrived here in Botswana and started our training and medical started giving us all kinds of shots and our anti-malaria medication.  It all felt surreal. The training itself wasn’t difficult although it was all consuming for those 9.5 weeks. We spent time  learning about Botswana, its language and culture – through both class time and while living with our host families; HIV/AIDS and the particular cultural norms and values that make it more problematic here;  the government’s plan of action; working with communities to assess needs and with non profits to help build their capacity, etc. etc.
I had a great host family with a 13 year old “niece” who was kind and fun to be with, my “mother” who, while just 3 years older than me, took her role as my host mom seriously and made sure I knew what I needed to know, including that I was part of the family and loved unconditionally.  My brother and his girlfriend lived at the house too, and their 1 ½ year old sun and 3 year old daughter would melt my stress off my shoulders the minute I walked in the front door each evening. Then there were my four sisters, who would visit when they could, and took me in as the eldest sister with much love and affection.  I could not have been any luckier.  I have become good friends with a nice handful of trainees, and we were sworn into service on June 8th.  Although I would miss many of the people I had met up til then, I was glad to be on my way to Otse to begin my service.
Our group has had some attrition, going from 40 starting out in Philadelphia to 39 boarding the plane, three leaving before being sworn in and three more within a month or two at site. We lost three more through the end of the year, plus one who quite PC but has stayed in the country for now. Every one of them had legitimate reasons and no one takes the decision to end their service lightly, but our attrition rate is somewhat spectacular by PC Botswana standards. Those of us who remain continue to do the best we can and continue to learn about ourselves in the process.
From when we arrived at our sites until mid-August we were officially on “lock down” and expected to stay in our communities, get to know our neighbors, community leaders, etc. , do an assessment of needs, and continue to learn the language. Because my placement had a very defined job for me, working on a grant with a time limit, I didn’t have the “luxury” of wandering around my village and getting to know people. Instead, I was working a 40+ hour week and doing the community assessment work on my “off” time. Then, in July, after I had been here for just over a month, my counterpart on the grant gave notice and we had to reexamine how we would continue the grant activities. Most of it landed on me and my work load increased even more.
In these first months, I was also increasingly concerned about my dad’s rapidly failing health. I knew my dad would continue to decline, and that he was unlikely to last through my two year’s of service, but I hadn’t expected things to move so quickly and am grateful that I was able to fly home in August in time to say goodbye to him.
I have to hand it to Peace Corps, because it was less than 24 hours from when my step-mother made the call to the stateside Peace Corps office to when I got the call from our local office that they could have me on a plane that evening. I arrived almost exactly 24 hours before he died.
The rest of my 10 days in the States was spent helping my mother move out of her small apartment into a nice big, open and airy home she was sharing with her new roomie Ann. It kept my body and mind busy and that was a good thing. Besides, it had become tradition that every time my mother moved I was supposed to put up her artwork. Some traditions you just can’t break, even when in the Peace Corps. May they both live long and happy lives in THAT house!
Otse is a great little village. I enjoy my lovely home and garden, my two adopted cats (from departing Bots 8 volunteers), and the beautiful views of the hills that surround us on three sides.  I am not too far from the capitol – about 45 minutes by bus – and closer to a smaller town called Lobatse where I go to do most of my shopping and where my Rotary Club is located.  I have begun to make friends here and am getting involved in more community activities.
Even though many mornings when I walk out the door, part of me says, “oh great, another day of not understanding more than the basics” most days are good and I can at least greet people properly and more and more they are recognizing me and accepting me in their routines. People are generally friendly and interested in me, and pleased that I am trying to learn the language, although frankly it is very challenging and frustrating.  Part of the problem is simply that most people speak English so well that for them to slow down and wait for me to utter something really isn’t worth their or my time, since we know we can do it in English much faster. That said, I do run into people in our support groups who speak very little English and it is for them that I am re-dedicating myself to more tutoring starting this month.  It can only help.
All my work with the support groups and the challenges with the grant spending occupied many hours of my weeks and months, right through December.  I was still able to spend time with some neighborhood teenage girls who started hanging out at my house on Sunday afternoons. I have also helped with various projects with our local rotary club, including a book drive, a clothing drive and the beginning of work on a project to get one of the disability groups a well so they can start gardening on their plot of land.
I have also been working to help Cathrine get her son Erto’s clubfeet fixed. This included contacting a group in South Africa and getting them to put his story on their web page to raise money. Many of my friends at home have donated and I thank you for that. Erto needs to now have some x-rays taken to be sure there are no other abnormalities causing his inability to walk and if not, we should be able to get treatment started soon.  If all I manage in my remaining 17 months is to get to see that kid run around with his older siblings, I will consider myself a happy camper.
I didn’t do anything fancy for Thanksgiving. I was going to travel up north to meet up with some other volunteers, but I didn’t feel like taking the days needed for the bus travel and was scheduled to take a trip to Germany the week after. My predecessors had given me one of those paper turkeys with the tissue paper for the feathers that folds out, so I put him on the table and called it good. The cats liked him and had no idea what they were missing.
I spent about 9 days in Germany, visiting my German parents, my brother Hartmut, his wife Valeria and their two sons.  I also visited briefly with my brother Martin at the Frankfurt airport on his way to Korea. (The Germans are so civilized about their airports so non-travelers can visit with travelers INSIDE the airport, no less.)  I enjoyed the chance to grab a bit of cool weather, take part in the festive Christmas season as only Germany does it, and visit with a few members of my German family. I also hooked up with a Rotary club while there and they invited me to attend a special Christmas event the four Wiesbaden clubs held together. Boy’s choir, organ music and holiday stories in an old church, followed by German cake and coffee. It is a period I now refer to as my German Cake Incident.  Which might have also be made worse by my German Mulled Wine and German Roast Duck Incidents. Hard to say. I enjoyed the chance to walk around in cold weather, ride a bicycle and get a couple of massages, and speak coherently to people in a second language, just to prove I wasn’t a complete idiot, so the good definitely outweighed the Cake.
When I arrived back here, I ran into my former counterpart who “ditched” me in July. His flight had come in the day before from Canada, where he had been studying for the last 6 months, but they had lost a bag so he was back looking for it. It was great to have that kind of Eureka Arcata airport experience even in a “capitol city” airport.
Botswana is like Humboldt County a little in one respect:  it seems like everyone knows everyone. When I moved to Humboldt, I knew 50 people and saw them everywhere. Here, I am always running into people I know in unexpected places, even though I don’t know many more than 50 very well.  And someone I know is bound to know someone who knows someone who knows some else I know.  So, like anywhere, it is smart to watch what you say to who.
After Germany, it was back to the grindstone to finish out the spending and reporting on the European Union Grant. The last check was delivered at 11:45 on Friday, December 30th to an office that had decided to close at noon that day. That morning was a gorey experience and one I don’t want to recount without a therapist present.  Things here don’t happen the way you would expect them to a lot more than they don’t happen the way you would expect them to at home.
I did get some relief though, and spent Christmas Eve and day with my Botswana family in Kanye.  New Year’s eve I spent quietly with my PC buddy Tom at his place about an hour away.  I had brought some of his favorite things back from Germany and we shared a bottle of champagne. Then I went to bed around 10:30. Apparently there were fireworks, but I never heard them.
Since then, my girls have been coming over with a gang of smaller girls to help clean the yard for the planned birthday party on February 4th. They don’t work for long, but we are slowly making progress. They come for the food, but leave with memories to last a lifetime, right?  If I could count in my reports how many kids I have taught to play Irish Sevens, that would be nifty.
What have I learned or reaffirmed so far:
·         Though I have learned a bit more about myself, I haven’t yet had time to become a better person. It takes so much time and effort and frankly, with the heat the way it is, I just don’t have the energy for self-improvement.
·         The less time you have, the longer things take.  I am constantly aware of how fast time is going and how long things take to do, Already, I have been here 9 months and only have 17 left.
·         It is important to balance efforts and energy between my long term and short term goals and finding daily fulfillment is important and not always measured by “output.”  
·         Even with priorities, back up plans, and more back up plans, sometimes you just need to  let some of it go wherever it is going to go anyway, plans or not.  That is hard but getting easier. 
·         Sometimes just being present for someone is going to have more long term effect than doing something that I can write up in a report. Although I still have to write something up in a report.
·         Taking naps is a totally appropriate use of one’s time if one is lucky enough to be near one’s bed when the urge strikes. I am still trying to figure out how to fit that activity into my PC goals.
·         I still like kids and old people the best.
·         l need my down time and like being home alone to relax, re-energize and simply think.  When there is someone constantly around who I have to interact with, I start to get a bit grumpy (Okay, more than a bit grumpy) unless I really, really, REALLY like them. Yet I also have reaffirmed that I like to be around people and if I feel welcome and comfortable, I can be the life of the party. It’s all about balance, of course and not spending too much time at either extreme.
·         My enjoyment of writing has increased now that I have time to do it. At home, I wanted to write, but with all the work-related writing, the day-to-day grind, and the distractions that come with a busy life, owning a Blackberry, and having cable and internet at home, I just would never get to it.  The walk to and from work each day helps settle my mind and organize the things I want to write about in a way that the short drive to and from work at home never did.
·         Long hot baths (in the cold winter) are very soothing. I never had the time, nor thought it was a good use of my time, to do that at home.  With the right size tub - long and deep – it is one of the best things ever.  When I get home and am looking for a place to live, the right sized tub will be an absolute requirement.
·         I don’t need or want a lot of stuff.  Even here I am cleaning out my closet and giving things to our Rotary clothing drive or my friends. Granted, they are things that are way too big for me now, but I still don’t like clutter or things that aren’t useful lying around.
·         In terms of pets, its: where ever I go, there they are.  They are great company, although here too, they get under feet and one day I will be the old lady who dies while accidentally tripping over a beloved furry creature. That day is hopefully still far off.
·         I am still not a big fan of hot weather and wonder if I will ever stop sweating more than everyone else. On the upside, some of my aches and pains from constant moist weather in Eureka seem to have lessened.
·         I still love chocolate. Not much to add to that.
·         I still like to learn languages, but it gets harder to do so later in life.  I enjoy trying at least, but need to put more effort into this aspect of my experience. Setswana se thata. (Setswana is hard.) Yeah, that sentence makes it look easy, but I only know easy sentences.
·         I can adapt to new situations and ways of living. Granted, living in Botswana is more like living in America than I imagine living in oh, I don’t know, a remote village in China say, would be, but there are a lot of things to adapt to and I haven’t found it as hard as I thought it would be.  Like: not understanding what people are saying and being okay with it; doing my laundry in my bathtub; bugs and crawly things; walking almost everywhere, and sitting in crowded buses to everywhere else; and having to carry anything I want, food or otherwise, from there to here. 
·         I need to slow down more and not worry about my work as much as I do. Things will be what they will be and I can only do my best with what I am given.  In 2012 I have devised a plan to work less and travel more. Or just nap more.
Those of my friends who hoped I would learn more patience will be both happy and disheartened.  I HAVE learned that whether I am patient or impatient, things happen the way they are going to happen and all my amount of frustration and impatience matters not. So I suppose that could be considered progress.  Yet still, there are certain things that drive me nuts and will probably always drive me nuts.  I am learning to comment on them less, so that is progress.  Right now it helps that most of what would probably frustrate me even more in unintelligible to me.
Overall, I think I am doing well as long as I don’t become complacent and only focus on the skills that come easiest.  So I guess it’s time to go do some language acquisition followed by, or perhaps included with, a lesson or two in patience.  Can I get a chocolate milkshake with that?
I know the next 17 months will fly by as well.  I hope in this time I can make a difference for someone besides myself, but we will just be patient about that. Thanks for listening.

Vampires, Wolves and Thieves

Before I forget, Sisi’s Setswana name is Shesophatso.  Maybe it was her hysterectomy or maybe the fact that she has turned most of the hunting over to Pudi, but man, she is a porker.
Anyway, we had a great Saturday.  I left my house headed to meet my niece Lucia in Gabs to see Breaking Dawn Part I.  I was warmly greeted by a stranger who introduced herself and told me she was a volunteer for Home Based Care. I greeted her and told her who I was and that I was a volunteer at Camphill.  This was all in Setswana! Basic, but still.  Then I rounded the turn and saw my neighbor, who runs the bottle shop, on her way to work. We greeted each other, walked along together and talked about the weather, how it was better today with the wind to cool things off, but it had been too hot and how she had to work at home and now at the shop and then we agreed that we both work too much.  THIS was all in Setswana! Okay, her Setswana was perfect and mine was words or very short sentences and grunts and groans, but it worked!
I should probably just spend my days at her bottle store having her teach me, but then I would get a reputation for being a drunk.  On the other hand, maybe I would become a drunk, but a better-spoken one. Either way, I know I would learn from her because she doesn’t speak much English. That is really what I need; time with people who aren’t in a hurry and don’t have anything else to do but to sit and listen to me sputter words out. That is so much what people who own bars end up doing, isn’t it? Entertaining drunks and listen to them sputter out words?
It won’t happen at work (the word sputtering or the drinking), because everyone is working and it is much faster for everyone if they speak English to me. However, maybe, now that things are starting to slow down in some ways and I will be purposely NOT going to the office every day, I can start sitting and having these simple conversations with people who have already slowed down enough.
So these two nice conversations had me in good humor as I boarded the way too full bus to Gabs and ended up standing the entire hour ride.  I realized that standing for that long in a hot crowded bus was better in some ways than sitting for that long because I didn’t so obviously end up drenching my clothing. Standing, with whatever wind blew in from both sides of the bus, I could keep some airflow going around my skin and not look like I wet myself (my back, my legs my butt, etc.) as I do when I sit that long and then stand up to leave the bus. I just relaxed my knees, planted my feet firmly and held on to anything secure and non-human and let my mind relax as I gazed out the window.
Gabs was crowded. I don’t think I have ever made the trip there on a Saturday, come to think of it.  I met up with Lucia and we took a combi to the mall where the movie was showing.  We were in the last row of the combi; I had the window seat and had the window wide open. I was doing what I do best when I am in a cramped vehicle and sweating out all of my bodily fluids– zone out and hope some throws a cold bucket of water on me – when everyone in the combi started yelling and pointing.  Well, I am no fool, so I knew something was wrong.
It would have taken a long time for me to know WHAT exactly was wrong without Lucia there.  Apparently, at the stop we were sitting at, the guy sitting in the back row with us and hanging out the other window was mugged. Yep. Someone reached in the window and grabbed his phone or IPod or whatever he had his earphones hooked to and yanked it right out the window.  He took off running and everyone in the vehicle started yelling at the driver to pursue him!  People were pissed.  We drove wildly forth until we came along a fortuitous police vehicle. Men jumped out of our combi and ran to the police and told them what happened. Then both vehicles were in hot pursuit. Except none of us really knew where the guy had gone, since he wisely didn’t just run down the road but ducked off somewhere.
We had been taught in our training that people here do NOT like thieves (except I suppose the thieves, they must like themselves, right?) and if you yell “legodu” you better be serious because if people get their hands on the guy you are accusing before the police do, they are likely to give him a good thumping. For the guys in our combi, and the owner of the apparatus, it was sadly not their day to thump. 
We continued on to the mall and it was an exciting reminder that you have to be careful with your stuff when people around you want it.  I never take my earphones or mp3 player anywhere in public. Mostly because I like to hear Setswana I can’t understand in the background as I am having my quiet thoughts. I think it helped Lucia to remember to be careful with her brand new cell phone, which though not very fancy, is fancier that mine, and teenagers can be a bit nonchalant with things they didn’t put their own money into…..
We wandered the mall, got a bite to eat and readied ourselves for the movie.  Lucia told me she was making family history because she was the first to see a movie in a theater. She also said one of her aunts was teasing her mother that I was stealing her daughter away from her. I hope she doesn’t think so. I am really only in the market for nieces and nephews on as many continents as I can manage.  The other sisters all told her that I was the best aunt now. I will have to remind them that while in this magical world of Peace Corps Host Families I am technically their sister, I am really closer to their mother’s age and have had more time to save money to be frivolous with because I also didn’t have five kids and have a husband who died on me like “our” mom.  I just don’t want them feeling bad, but I think they are all probably joking around.
The movie was, of course, grand and over too soon. The theater was so air-conditioned that we were at first cold, but then I was in bliss.  I know where to go when it gets really hot. I will just stay in the theater after the movie sitting quietly in the dark until they drag me out. Lucia wants me to tell her what happens in the next movie and when we could go see it. I told her it might not be out until next year, but she could read the book first, since I had it.  No, she said, just TELL ME! No, and no.  Please though, those of you in the US, tell ME when Breaking Dawn Part II will come out again.  If I am still in Botswana, I will need to save my Pula for the next trip.  Maybe I will drag the whole family along.

Easily Amused

I am glad that I often am easily amused. I guess that is the flip side to being easily unamused.  The girls were over this afternoon, “helping me clean the yard” for the party. I let one of them use my phone to text Lucia. By the time the reply came back, the girls were gone and I am left pondering what the text says. Mostly I can figure it out. But then there is another text that came in from an unknown number.  And since she hadn’t texted anyone else, I don’t know if it is for me, for her, or a wrong number.  I understand just enough of it to wonder if I understand it at all and it had me pulling out the dictionary, which is probably a good thing since I so rarely do it.
I promised myself and PC that I would get more tutoring, so now that it is January I need to contact my tutor and get things rolling again. I need the discipline of a teacher who knows how to teach and knows how to ask me things and give me answers to my questions.
I still think the girls are better served by speaking English with me, but even when they don’t I am starting to pick up on more of what they are saying, even though I am haven’t the ability to respond quickly or cleverly. Okay to be honest, I haven’t the ability to respond to quick talking teenagers at all, here or anywhere else.  But I can give them looks when they are talking and sometimes the looks they give me back indicate they were saying something they maybe shouldn’t have and didn’t realize I understood. I give them looks that look like I understood, which of course I didn’t. They don’t quite realize that, so in a strange way, I am keeping them honest, but none of us know how much. Like I said, I am easily amused. And distracted.
So anyway, this text message, a mixture of English and Setswana reads, “No? Bby (short for baby) ncheke fa phalafala ka 8 plz (please) ke a kopa….? Reply by Thabang.” That last part indicates to me that someone is using Thabang’s phone to send a message to someone else. I think ncheke means the person wants to check on the person they are calling Bby either at 8 or on the 8th and ke a kopa means “I need, or I am asking politely. So the word that stumps me is phalafala. As its own word, it doesn’t exist in my crappy dictionary, so I get to wonder if words that are part of it actually add up to it.  Hmm. “Phala” is an impala, a roebuck, a whistle, kind of flute, or horn. It is also a verb meaning “to excel.”  Fala is a verb that means “to scrape the surface, as a pot with a scraper; or wood with a knife, or to scratch a wound till the scab falls off.” Nice. I am guessing it is slang for something….  Hmm. I wonder who that message was supposed to go to?  Could it be that someone wants to play his flute or blow his horn pretty mightily so that something falls off or is scraped clean? Or does he just want to excel at cleaning his pot?  This is not the way I should be studying this language.
Oh, except Lucia’s message also has the word “phalafala” in it! Cool, so now I can text her and ask her what the heck it means. Maybe she and the other email were both simply expressing a need for a new new pot scraper, or a scab fell off and they were sharing the news.
While I await her explanation, more about my day…today is January 2nd and we have it and the 3rd off. I spend New Year’s Eve in Ramotswa at Tom’s then came home yesterday and goofed off as best I could, but also prepared my guest room for company and vacuumed the house. I did my best to avoid working on that dang narrative report.  But today, I started early and after doing my laundry, I spent five hours working on the report.  I will email it off on Wednesday. They will revise it, ask for more information, and otherwise find it unsuitable.  I then got ready for the girls by making a large amount of chocolate pudding and buying a loaf of bread.
They said they would be bringing friends to help clean the yard, and Motlalepula decided on the menu I would provide the workers.  Seven young girls arrived at 3 p.m., ages 10 to 15, including Nonofo and Motlalepula, without tools and in the heat of the day.  There were some clearly harder workers than others, and we managed to do a bit of clean up, but there is so much more to do and it is a bigger job than these little girls are really up for. They loved the reward of chocolate pudding, toast, juice, sitting in the house with the fan blowing and learning to play Irish Sevens, which is really why they came at all. Nonofo and Motlalepula acted like they were in charge of everything, including keeping the kids and me under control. It was nice to see them act maturely and as relatively good role models around younger kids. Or maybe they were just controlling food portions.
They plan to be back tomorrow morning around 8 am so we aren’t working in the heat of the day and Motlalepula won’t need to rest as much.  I think this is going to cost me another loaf of bread, a dozen eggs and a good amount of milk. I wonder if they would eat French toast?
And that text? Turns out Phalafala is a street name somewhere here in town. I haven’t seen any street signs around, but now I know that the message says for her to meet someone at this street around 8.  I had been hoping this Phalafala person was going to come over here tomorrow at 8 and was asking what kind of tools to bring.  So now I have learned a new word that isn’t even that useful because I still don’t know what it means.
The other thing that amused me this week was standing at a bus stop at 8 a.m. with it feeling like it had already hit the 100 degree mark it was supposed to hit that day. I was going to be doing a lot of walking so had put on my real shoes with socks, and so I didn’t look like a total old lady I had decided to wear my long dress to kind of hide the shoes.  My feet did great all day but the dress just gave me more material to sweat all over. All that isn’t what amused me though. (Although in the grocery story my long dress kept getting caught in the grocery cart wheels and I almost took a header out of the bus because of the dress and both of those things are kind of amusing. But not in the moment.) It was that I was the only person standing at the crowded bus stop not staring down at my cell phone texting someone, totally oblivious to the world around us.  Okay, it was amusing at the time, but like I said, I am easily amused.