Grandmother Visit



Helping to figure out the strengths of glasses needed



The Grandmother lead at Help Lesotho administers the Grandmother Program- helping 200 grannies caring for orphans for two years. During this time, the women receive education about HIV and how to care for their orphaned grandchildren, and food, seeds and fellowship at monthly meetings. They are then phased out and 50 more from each of the four districts we serve are taken on. The lead, M’e MaKatleho, took Lucy and I on an outing to meet the Grandmothers in Leribe District and hear their stories.\It was akk I had hoped it would be, and more.

One grandmother had mistaken the invitation for a meeting in tow and walekd the two hours to the office. She was driven with us back to her village, or at least as far as a car could go. We travelled the rest of the way on foot, children following in our wake. The scenery was primitive, the worn down mountains and rondavels baking under the hot clear sky.Eight Grannies from several villages had been called to meet us. They ululated happily and spontaneously throughout the meeting -the strange haunting vocal offering show how pleased they were to have guests. One by one, they told their stories in Sesotho and M’e translated.

Each lady had lost several adult children and was raising their orphans. There were two men left in the villages to help. One woman was raising 8 children. None had any significant income, except the old age pension of 50 Cdn a month and what they could raise from making crafts or homemade beer. All had orphans that could not continue school after Primary as they could not pay their tuition for High School.

The most important part of their story around HL was to say that through the Program they had learned so much about HIV they could teach others in their villages and no longer thought they were being hexed. This helped bring the villages back together. Secondly, they got advice about how to handle the children- admitting that they were grieving for their own children and pushing the orphans away and being harsh with them. They had come to accept through the support and with the passage of time that this was Gods will and were learning to embrace the children.

The women brought their crafts and we bought some pottery. I had a “moment” when the lady with the most grandchildren put her bead work necklace around my neck. We sat admiring one another throughout the meeting. At the end, we gave out the donated glasses I had received and calculated the magnification each woman needed. Then we sang some more. The meeting was finished off by walking to an especially nice garden, complete with a raised keyhole garden built full of perfect spinach.


Grannies showing off their brand new glasses



The day also included a visit to a Grandmother near town who was caring for 5 orphans, one a 16 year old girl suffering form Cerebral Palsy. She cares for her in a tiny rondavel, doing all the lifting and cleaning herself. The girl is emaciated, but clean and has no pressure sores. The Grandmother had a larger rondavel, fixed up by HL, but she gave it to her son and family, moving the 6 in her family into this tiny smokey one as it was warmer. To see her situation and realize what her daily life must be like was more than sobering. All the clothes, bedding, pots and sleeping space for 6 are in a 15 foot radius. To be in this home as a visitor was a humbling experience.

We could have easily stayed out all day. I understood why Granny days are the favourite for everyone. These women are so deprived, but yet don’t seem so- in fact they were dignified and gracious, spiritually replete and full of songs and dance !

Nothing is easy….

Lets take washing your clothes. I do 5 or 6 loads of laundry every weekend for the week ahead, all in one day. Sometimes I’m too lazy to fold it .

Washing your clothes here might be like this:

You shake out the bedding hoping to see no bed bugs
The house doesn’t have water for hours at a time, especially when you have time to wash yourself or your things.
The electricity goes off as well, especially with the frequent storms
When the water comes on it may be brown
No problem, there’s a rain barrel- you can always flush!
You wash by hand, but can never really rinse well
You hang up the clothes on the fence
A torrent of rain comes again when they are almost dry
Finally you remake your bed and wear the newly clean clothes-
Looking completely foolish because they are a mess of wrinkles and everyone here is turned out much better.
I develop an new appreciation for my washer and dryer





Trying to get an email out might be like this:

You go to the Internet Café up town at the Post Office
Walking up hill for a bit in the heat, and getting rained on
The Café is closed
You go again, and the Café is open, but the Internet is down
All across Leribe district
No problem, you go again the next day, it’s still down, but hoping, you try the 4 other Internet cafes- also down. An hour wasted.
The third day and tenth try, the café is open, but the computers don’t work
Not to be daunted, you try again the next day, and get a virus on your flash
While sending the photos and articles for your blog
Thankfully it is caught and screened back at the office.
No one at home receives the mail.
I develop a new appreciation for my computers at home, even dial up

And so it goes !


My Key Duty

I have been working with the keys for the Centres non stop
It is a huge job, and I am seeing keys in my sleep
I have sorted and devised innumerable schemes
Created Master logs and Master files, key sign out sheets
Labelled key rings, split and copied keys for 8 burglar bars
Lost keys and re found them
Failing key rings, we use pipe cleaners to disburse them
I hope to leave before disaster strikes.

When It All Becomes Real

Yesterday afternoon I was at the old office, down in the steamy gully, crowded together, all tired from Camp. I had been to the Internet Café three times and all over town, no luck- the Internet was down throughout Leribe District. I had spent 4 hours in the morning at the new Centre getting keys organized, hundreds of them, logging them, labelling them, hanging them on pipe cleaners and coming up with a sign out system. Peg said that was on top of tens of hours on their part developing the flow and lock patterns for staff.

Something I had never thought about.

A really beautiful young girl came to the Office and signalled that she wanted to talk and I would be o.k. I had seen her at the Camp, always bright and well dressed, really the type we hope will rise and become a leader – good English, respectful, smart. She is in the calendar this year, first page , at the left. A very noticeable person in the melee. Peg says the clothes she wore are the same good clothes she has worn the last two years.

Keithumetse, beloved sponsored girl of a friend of Pegs. Eighteen years old.
Her story was not unique, but it was one of my most touching and saddest moments in Lesotho so far when she confided in me. What a difficult job the people here have, trying to follow rules with no exception, listening to these life stories every day.

This lovely teenager said she had failed Form D, Grade 11. She said she knew she was bright and had never failed. She did not go and get her results before the Leadership Camp because she knew it was most likely bad news, and she didn’t want to ruin the Camp. Her words all came out with tears streaming down her face. I can’t really get it across in writing.

Her Mother died a few years ago and she never knew her father. She lives with an aged and infirm Grandmother and a 13 year old boy, the son of her Mother’s sister. He doesn’t respect her or her Grandmother. They have no food, and the two kids usually only eat once a day, at school. She worries constantly about her Grandmother, alone at home and hungry. They usually only have pap in the house, never any fruit or protein. She had gained weight at the Camp. Occasionally, another aunt sends them money for food from Maseru, or visits and brings food about every 4 months or so.

My Friend Julia



My friend Julia


I had wanted to get in touch with Julia DiKhalma, a teacher from Thaba Tseka, to see if she was coming to the Camp. She was my wonderful sister, the lady who took me riding in the mountains of that remote village five hours from Leribe when we visited sponsored children in 2008. I failed to get in touch with her before I left Canada. When she walked into the Camp, we were both happy beyond words to see each other. I had to measure my reactions and time spent, as jealousy would be real and destructive overall, but I managed a couple quiet chats. I found out she has 17 people in her home and under her care and can’t retire from teaching. A son died and his wife came with their two children and two other orphans to live with Julia. The wheelbarrow I gave her a year ago to take her produce to market has been destroyed and she can’t replace it. Her husband drinks too much. Her life is hard, yet she has a magnificent spirit. The night I spent in the teacher’s dorm playing cards with them was my favourite night. Julia’s laugh fills a room, and I lost a Basotho game two times – inheriting the Joker, thereby marrying the bad man. They all concluded I would have to stay in Lesotho married to this bad man.They all fought the bedbugs and we , in our room, did not. I wish I had been able to bring a few more clothes to give her.

The next few days will bring a visit to another orphanage, one run by a local woman , accompanied by another Canadian who is working here for her second winter. Centre issues in the afternoon. I will work with the Sponsored Child lead, M’e Mampaka, and a Canadian intern, Alison, for the week getting the kids outfitted and back to school. Thankfully, they now have vouchers and so we just have to hand out and keep tracks of these, not buy 250 pairs of shoes, 250 uniforms etc.

I hope to see a grandmother visit, probably in a remore village, this week soemtime and go to the Orphanage in Maseru next week. I will try to get another letter out next Monday or so. It will be a very short visit.
The gifts, craft supplies , glasses et al very appreciated and well used.Thanks
Thinking of everyone at home and wondering what you would all think if you could be here in my shoes.

Happy New Year.

The Big Story Was Mine

Day three of the Camp, dinner over- we had the first Talent Show. It is at night, under a big ratty tent, with rain dripping through the seams, and one small light. It was a small fluorescent camp light. You still couldn’t see any of the performer’s faces.The kids were reluctant to come up this year. Lots of silliness and a few bad dancers. At last a good dancer- we had a computer with a scratch mode, hip hop and dance tracks- We were all clapping, enjoying the moment. My purse was in the craft area hidden in a closet where it had been all day. Lots of other workers had purses and valuables stashed around the MASH unit office and the craft area that doubles as the teachers dining hall. There were adults in and out of there all the time.

The next day I walked down to the business area to the bank to get money. When I got to the bank machine my wallet was gone…. Cards, driver’s license, OHIP card, 200 rand (only 15.00), travellers insurance etc. what an anxious moment, and a pain in the ass. By the time I had walked back to the Camp, I had calmed down. I had my passport hidden at our house and a second VISA card, I could get by and get home. Whoever did it was incredibly poor and could be forgiven, at least by me. I almost decided not to say anything. But it is a Camp for leaders and Peg wants them to be trustworthy, and it would have been a huge issue for her- so I spilled the beans. An announcement was made to the group.

Did I mention 4 boys had remained at the School for the Deaf over Christmas. Four boys with no families who were around the fringes of the Camp and getting some of the treats and a bit of attention between their

Chores, which included digging up a muddy field.

A day and half later, 10 p.m., M’e MaHlompho visited me in my room. “I think we have found the culprits” she said.Two of the bigger deaf boys were seen in the field wearing the tall, white gumboots the herd boys wear. They could never have afforded them and told her that a brother of one had visited and left money. No brother had been seen. I was more intrigued by the total

naivety of their actions than I was optimistic that my stuff would be returned. M’e was going to call in the Police early in the a.m. She also called in the Matron of the School to do the sign language interrogation.

Beautiful little Murai

M’e had seen the boys sitting near me at the Talent Show and also had seen them going in and out of the Craft area. We all called her the detective, a potential C.S.I., to her great amusement. And indeed, she had solved the case. After a brutal interrogation for an hour, which I had to witness, all the while wishing I could actually give them the boots, one of the boys caved. A trip their bedroom with the beautiful little Murai, the youngest deaf boy, yielded my cards – all of them- hidden amongst their clothing. It was unbelieveable, all back in my wallet except 200 rand. I have asked the Police for the boots back for the Centre.

Tlalane, my little sponsored girl cried when she heard I had been robbed. Most Basotho are humiliated when a guest is insulted, hurt, or harmed.A great shout when up when it was announced that all had been found. I have not had my purse off my shoulder since that day.

Leadership Camp


I just got “home”- first shower in 6 days has me promising never to take a shower for granted again. The days were full- full of singing, full of work, full of learning, not to mention full of ripe smells! Hot and humid, heavy rain every day, mud and water up to our ankles in many places. We all slogged around gamely between the tent and the various buildings.

Back to the beginning,that is moving an entire office to the School for the Deaf, including flip charts, beds and bedding and a MASH unit for admin.


There was already enough food for an army there, ordered by the tiny but invincible M’e MaHlompho. We are talking 14 dozen eggs a day, 24 dozen loaves of bread, cases of apples, 50 kg bags of Papa. Pap, as they call it, two meals a day of enough of the sticky white starchy staple to send the Canadians home overweight….and the kids put in the suggestion box they needed more food! Registration went well – except for the late arrivals due to torrential rains, bridges washing out etc. At one point the Camp was at risk, and the tent was creating water falls over the edges that were hazardous to walk under.

It was so fantastic to see the kids from the Bytown Orphahage where I had my 3 month placement. I was especially moved to see our two sponsored kids, Tlalane and Limakatso and hug them, which I did every chance I got.


Helen's 2 sponsored kids - Tlalane and Limakatso



The first meal, complete with 200 china plates and mugs, no one had thought



of how we were to do the dishes. The next five days the kids were organized to do it by group. I sprang into action in the darkened garden shed with candles and the same two or three lovely girls that had helped me so much last time, in 2009. It took us an hour, but the dishes were done. Not being a martyr really, just had to be done….and I just can’t stay out of the kitchen !

The whole week, when there was a break in other duties, I retreated to the camaraderie of the kitchen ladies and the wonderful routine of chopping the food. At least everyone knew where to look for me.

As for other more intellectual duties, I helped set up the key system for the new Graff Centre- HL’s pride and joy. Every day, as 8 classes of studies went on in 8 classrooms at the Camp, I was free for the morning to help with Centre Issues. We were all under pressure to get the 34 Basotho girls in the Leadership Corp stream in place by the weekend- an unfortunate overlap with the Camp- as school starts this coming week. Peg was trying to trouble shoot with the many contractors…there was no water, no electrical and lots to do. By Saturday when they started to arrive, we had bunk beds assembled for 34 with bedding on them, food in stock, appliances in place, keys and locks organized…it goes on and on. A huge building and a huge project- all driven by a vision of children learning and Grandmothers fed and spiritually nourished. I hope, and believe, they will use it. It has been a huge worry and effort and has gone a year over schedule.

In the meantime, back at the Camp in the afternoons….I attended a seminar on anger management and the choices we have about how we react to things….then an interesting afternoon with the teachers on gender issues in the schools. Peg lead them through various lightweight topics like how boys and girls are treated differently. At one point, we heard from a male teacher who had been a herd boy from eight until thirteen- his grandmother rented him out to people with cattle for income for the family. He somehow and unbelievably managed an education- it was an amazing story. His point was that girls were better treated and better dressed, possibly to attract a husband.
The Peg hit them with a heavy weight topic- sexual abuse in the schools- a really big problem in Lesotho. Everyone was squirming, though the women admitted it had to be talked about. Very interesting day, no conclusions were reached as it wasn’t even a certainty that it was a punishable offence in the Country or the Education Act. All agreed the silence would have to end and on the concept that teachers are people in a non-negotiable position of trust.

Preview to Camp

My trip through Heathrow was smooth despite my trepidation regarding the chaos of the week before and the ensuing back log of Christmas travellers to take care of. Restaurant staffers in the airport told of running out of food and drink, and dealing with the crazy stress levels of everyone involved.
My seat mate on the eleven hour flight from London to Johannesberg- and this time ,for the first time, I was in the middle -was an economist from India working in New York who had travelled to see his family in Delhi and was now doing another marathon to visit his sister in Cape Town. There really are people out there crisscrossing the globe even more than I do.
Five of us arrived at the Joberg airport on Saturday early a.m. of New Years Eve. We were met by a private van and then spent an hour lost in that city. Eventually we hit the velds of the South African Free State and drove five hours through green open grasslands to the Lesotho Border.We stopped in a sketchy border town and all paraded into the liquor store, cognisant that it was New Years Eve.

The first two days in Lesotho were very restful and we all felt lazy and under
employed. We spent New Years Eve in the Leribe Hotel, and after a Maluti beer and cheese drenched pizza, all fell asleep at the table. The weekend was filled with hiking and touring about in the Toyota truck. Definitely we were being spoiled, as that use of gas is rare- but Peg wanted us to visit the Pitseng Centre and get the lay of the land-and she even took two days off work with us !

The visit to the Leadership Centre and its smaller Support Centre were rather intimidating for me. Both the work yet to be done to finish the building and the interiors, not to mention the landscaping- and the responsibility for the 34 little girls who are to move in here next week to start school- are overwhelming. Not to be daunted, a list of priorities was made and the phone started humming first thing after the New Year holiday was over. There are faucets that were purchased in August that are missing, water coming into some of the tiled rooms in the low corners, grills to paint and lights to install. Overall, the buildings are beautiful and quiet unlike anything else in the area- including the glass block construction in the stairwells. It will be beautiful when it is done. We now have 10 staff working in 2 rooms with a meeting room 15X 20 feet. They will move by the end of January into a facility that has an office per two people, a library, staff accommodation and a meeting room 20 X 40 with attached cafeteria. The Grannies won’t know what hit them. Ask me about the sponsor, the Graff Foundation, later. Quite a fantastic story. They are the diamond merchants who found Help Lesotho.

Today, I worked in the office with old friends. I opened sponsor letters and Christmas presents, read them, logged them and sorted them by school. Boy do I have tips for the people at home on how to make all this process easier on this side. I was also assigned the task of drawing 8 diagrams of ovaries and the uterus, calling to discuss the insurance we needed to house the girls when they move in and pack the craft bags for the Leadership Camp. The gang at the HL office moved almost everything over to the St Pauls School last week except perishables. We will move the food to the Camp tomorrow. I am on registration as the 250 participants arrive, morning snack detail and dinner brigade. Not in the kitchen much this year, just enough to have a bit of fun with the kitchen ladies and indulge my need to chop and produce food. The rest of the time, I will be attending sessions taught by other people and evaluating them and the kids responses. We take our bags and stay six days !

It's All About The Children

This is the reason I went back....I love the children I have met at The Centre For the Poor and Less Privileged. The week of Camp was great and it was good to contribute and work hard in the kitchen. But it was a week with these wonderful kids that gave me more than it gave them. I was right back in my element, improving my coloring and handing out hugs. They benefited tremendously by having a volunteer come back a second time, and were talking more, asking for more reading , and of course more BINGO's. All the things I took, given by generous friends, were appreciated and used, especially the skipping ropes, coloring books, recorders and plasticine, and sponge football. We made the most of our time together, and helping with the procurement of the cow and the start of a website were just bonuses. I had a definite parental feeling and role this time and was able to help with English homework and offer advice to teens. It was hard not to bring more than one child home, and will be hard not to go back every year and visit friends on the other side of the world. Hard parts aside, my trip was still very much worth the effort.

Downtown and The Market

The downtown area of Maseru is a hub bub of restaurants, government buildings and Internet cafes. Alot of NGO's have headquarters there. For the HL volunteers at the Centre, the experience is very different than that of the teachers in the remote villages without electricity. Once or twice a week it is possible to go to town by taxi or public and have a great lunch and email home. The thatched roof of the "Basotho Hat " tourist and gift centre is a landmark in the "new" downtown.

Several blocks away, there is the old market- much more "real Lesotho" and fun to walk around in. Despite the best photo ops ,
one cannot really pick up a camera there. Women walk around with plastic hampers of knives and other goods on their heads. The plastic and tin sheds/stores sell everything from cooking oil to apples, from roasted corn to haircuts. The smells and sights are totally Africa. I discovered a small craft stall area and met this grandmother, born in 1926, educated in English, she had been to Germany. We engaged in conversation for awhile about Canada and travel.She was an unexpected treasure, and I bought this pot from her. Made by villagers, it was the only one with a horse on it. It made it home in one piece, and reminds me of meeting her and being there.

Helen The Cow

One of the projects I most wanted to accomplish was to find a new dairy cow for the Centre. I have been discussing this with Sr. Margaret over email for some time, and there was a problem getting a good Holstein without going to South Africa and importing it. When I arrived, they told me we were to visit a livestock dealer in the interior. The Federal vet had said he would have a good selection, and as we couldn't contact him, we had to leave at 6 a.m. and hope to find him at home doing chores.
It was a great drive throughi the mountains.Luck was with us as he was there, but he had switched to Jerseys in the past few months and only had three on offer. I was content with the breed ,as the cost of feeding them is lower and the higher milk fat not an issue for the kids, so we went ahead and rectalled the two in the age range I wanted. The beautiful three year old second calf heifer shown here was in calf,and we are going ahead with her purchase. Hopefully, she will soon be milking and they will have two for one. Sr Margaret wants to call her Helen ??????