Dresses from Feed Sacks (my favourite)

Feeding 60 Children Papa and Brai

Bingo and Brai

Friday night is a night for fun, usually dancing to pop/hip hop or practicing the traditional dances. Last night we had a Bingo again. I made 60 homemade cards with the help of 2 of the teens – each 5X5 squares with different letters excluding Z and not one the same! I had picked out 12 prizes earlier in the day, the best two being sunglasses. Bingo is a treat and taken very seriously and even the kitchen ladies/den mothers play. I pulled the letters out of a teapot, slowly, to prolong things…it was great fun and the smallest player won first. Keneuoe picked the small leopard print glasses to the chagrin of the teens. By the time we got to the 7th place or so 20 people yelled Bingo, so I am off today to buy 20 pens. There is urgency to it all- especially to the procurement of anything. There is frenzy around eating, getting prizes, taking photos that would not be understood by anyone back home. A feeling of chronic deprivation and the fear you will get left out are always present with the kids.

I had the pleasure of being invited to a family home this weekend. The lady Me Mapoloko (Mother of Poloko) worked with me at the HL office and leadership camp. When I told her I wanted to learn to cook African food, she invited me for overnight and church. We had a traditional meal of Papa (corn meal) and Moroho (chopped cabbage) with cold bean salad and beetroot salad. Their home is lovely, with a beautiful garden, big entertainment system (we watched Nigerian movies Saturday night) – but no running water. You cannot imagine how this affects everything you do or don’t do- but how well they manage. Church was a great experience, despite the fact it was in Sesotho and I missed the sermon. The music was great, though more like Anglican and less like Gospel than I had imagined. The women were so beautiful in traditional dress with a sense of identity and dignity that radiated. Others were in western dress, quite done up and men impressive all in suits. It was a more western experience than I had expected and moving to see such open faith. The church was filled with music throughout, full harmony and no organ!

The final experience of the big weekend was the “Brai” South African for Bar-b-que.
Phil leaves this week and the kids are upset. He has been here for 6 months and especially the boys have opened up to him. He and I went to town at 8 a.m. Saturday and ended up walking back almost a mile from the public taxi with charcoal, 6 freezer packs of chicken and the ice cream, which was pretty well soup by then. On Sunday, we set up a half oil drum and it took 2 hrs to bar-b –que it all. Kids were amazing and did all the work. They had Papa and meat (nama) followed by ice cream on the cone and it was a hit. The music and singing after dinner for Phil was the best yet and there were speeches that had me choked up- even a poem titled “My hero” I told him afterwards that he may never have such an incredible tribute again.

Today I start a new week, doing the mural, starting to be responsible for the computer labs two hours daily after school. It will be a lot more now that I am on my own. I have set a goal of having all of the 60 names memorized this week, add a few daily. Then there are the eggs at 7 a.m. and 11 a.m. after preschool ( and the wrath of Me Puleng if I fail to materialize). Lots to do and not much time to worry about home and my business, it’s so totally engrossing here.

Some of the Kids

Its About The Children

 
   I have talked about a lot of things, but not too much about the children here. They are fantastic in general, considering what has happened to some of them. The nuns are responsible for a lot of that by offering stability and good sense guidelines. But it is truly impressive how positive and resilient most of them are.
     There are two groups here. There are children that have nothing at all and no family. Two children just came here to stay, brought in by neighbors. Their mother dies in December and the day of her funeral min January their father died. They have an elderly grandfather that could not cope with the situation, so the neighbors took charge. Another girl here was left with a young sibling and mother in jail and was
begging for food  for both of them when pulled off the street. She does not wish to see her mother again, out of jail now but not interested. There are others that have had tragedy and abuse and one sweet little girl that is HIV positve. She appears healthy and they monitir her CD4 counts, but none can’t help but wonder what her life will bring her.
     The other group of children are considered vulnerable. They may have one parent or relatives they can visit on holidays. They may even have family support as occasional visits or clothes. They are here because they cannot be cared for properly.
These kids are counseled by the Sisters to act the same and never appear to be different or to have more. They seem to understand and pull that off, certainly everyone is level. Some of these children have fathers away mining and their mother is gone or deceased. It is different for each one, but in general the situation is so different that Canada we can’t imagine this sad reality. Funerals every weekend and a resignation to all that entails.
     There are three mother types here, ladies that live with the children in the dorms and uncomplainingly feed, cloth and clean up after them The menu is set every week and the kids get meat once, chicken on Sundays. Also they get eggs twice, vegetables twice and milk twice on the other days. Every meal has papa, the dry cream of wheat type staple food (maize meal) The children each have a cup, plate and bowl numbered on the bottom with white paint and they clean them themselves. There is no cutlery.
I say none of this to sensationalize, as they are used to it and there is no more or less significance or acceptance (or lack of it) to it all than we have to our every day routine. The kids are quite happy and the teens are very cool.
     I have to watch how much I show affection or favoritism. The few that really pull at me are the youngest here (the older girls command something more like respect
as they care for the little ones and work hard ) I realize and was coached to know it would only be harder for them and me when I leave if I were to allow too many feelings to show, so I try to be level, approachable and spread it all around. This is one of my biggest personal challenges – to not get too attached. All I have to do is to think about many volunteers coming and going to know how hard it would be for them and  I “get “ the necessity of boundaries.
    We are having a Brai ( bar b que) Sunday as a going away party for Phil and we are buying chicken and ice cream for all.  Afterwards, I will do another BINGO, very popular….this time with prizes to 10 places. 

Weetumello - The Youngest

Amazing Connections

It is amazing how we can connect to other humans across cultural, age, and language barriers. The concert for the visiting Sister Superior was incredible. The kids at Bytown could be in a competition for dancing and singing. It was two hours, well choreographed and a real treat for Sr. Lorraine, visiting us from Ottawa.
I videoed alot of different dances hoping to share them when I get home. But the highlight for me was a spontaneous few moments in the kitchen with the little girls. They all had new costumes, full skirts and headresses. From where I stood filming in the hall, I was well aware you could hear all too well the events in the kitchen. When the 6 ten year olds had finished their shoulder dance, they went to the kitchen to change, but within a few seconds one emerged and grabbed my arm, signalling I should follow her. They indicated they wanted photos before they disrobed, and started to do poses and giggles. One of them, DiToboho, is a clown , a mini Bette Midler.....you can get the picture. I shushed them repeatedly with my finger, knowing we could get stopped , but the third girl, posing by the stove covered with old pots and lids rattled a loose lid pretty badly, causing us to freeze. Sister Alex opened the door, looking at me as if to say what's going on ? I instinctively hid my camera behind my back and nodded at her- implying I was the adult and all was under control. Amazing how quickly we became conspirators, and all without a word of English. She retreated and we finished the shots in fits of suppressed giggles. I am totally tight with those girls now and promised to print the pictures for them at home.
Sister Victoria and I have an idea they will love- send back a box pf photos and put up a bulletin board !
Of all the things I do for them, photos are the favorite demanded daily....followed by help with homework !
This weekend I have been asked to visit a co worker from HL who lives here in Maseru, and I will learn to cook African food Saturday in preparation for the feast I promised when I return.

The Riding Lesson

I traveled 3 hours on public and stayed two nights in Leribe to teach Donna, our volunteer coordinator a bit of a riding lesson. She has rented a horse by the month, but is a complete novice and the owners of the horse don’t speak English. It was great to see the HL gang and go out for a meal, but the place we stayed was mosquito infested and the trip was spoiled by two torturous nights awake dealing with hundreds of swarming persistent mosquitoes. I am covered with angry bites that I am obviously having an allergic reaction to, and must say I have never been so miserable or itchy with bites. A new variety of mosquito, I suppose, but I look like I have scabies.

We drove to the farmers for the lesson and found the horses were not all there. His wife invited us into the house to wait. With its tin roof it was well over 30 degrees inside and we sat patiently to be polite, with the flies, until we were all dripping. We emerged to find the poor looking horses back and being tacked up for us. The tack was also very poor with broken saddles and elastic reins and stirrup leathers. It was all very much borderline for safety. I was so glad to be there as they could not speak English and Donna has little Sesotho, so no help was forthcoming. The stirrups were far too short when she got on and it was obvious they were to be left that way. I jumped off and changed them. Also the horse I had was quiet and hers very up, so I recommended to her she start by leasing mine for a month or two! I continued to be a pain to them, I am sure, as they tried to take us across the busy highway and I insisted we turn around and continue through the fields. Eventually, we had a nice hack and she learned to turn and stop. No pictures were allowed of me, suffice to say !

A Visitor

The Sisters of Charity are a Roman Catholic order which was started in Canada and is associated with the Elizabeth Bruyere Centre for Palliative Care. The Order runs shelters and orphanages all over the world and is charged with caring for the poor and underprivileged. In Pitseng , where the leadership camp was held, we stayed at a convent where they care for elderly and abandoned women many of whom are blind or have had strokes. They have strong presence in Lesotho. They also have many shelters and convents in Japan , Thailand and the Caribbean. This weekend we have the Sister Superior, from Canada this year, visiting our orphanage.

The children have been cleaning everything, washing the windows and sweeping the grounds. It has been a virtual cleaning frenzy. Today I was asked to prepare welcome signs on the computer and help blow up many balloons with the kids. We tied them together and waited at the gate until the visitor’s vehicle arrived. What a great reception- 60 running , cheering kids surrounded her car. Today there are meetings and special meals and prayers. Tomorrow is church and a special concert of Traditional song and dance followed by a feast. It is easy to get caught up in it all.

We have also managed to take a photo of each of the children and have them printed. They will be presented as a surprise tonight. Lots of them do not have one photo of themselves. The other highlight tonight will be bingo on homemade cards for 50.

Any suggestions regarding prolonging bingo or variations on the game would be appreciated ( please put on the blog comments)

After the big weekend I will be finding the paint and starting my mural in the dining hall.

Routine........

I have my routine here down pat. The orphanage runs a preschool and the mornings are full. I lead the exercises and help with printing of numbers and letters. The kids know Phil and I cant speak their language and also can't discipline them, so they get out of hand often and we call in the nuns. It is getting easier for me to let go of these types of situations and walk away, something that would be very hard for me ordinarily. In the teen study hall period at night, I am very useful and called on a lot. There again things get very noisy and out of hand unless a nun is there. One of the kids asked me solve a dispute and it was impossible in English- they are often over shared items. Finally, one of the other teens said to me “let it go” - so very wise- and I just walked away and threw up my hands and was shortly helping someone else. Very challenging for me, who often has to be a fixer upper.

We went to town the other day as the HL staff were here. All had a dinner out and were hassled a bit coming back to the car in the dark. Just verbal, but Phil has a good attitude about it. Some of the people here are pleased to have the help, many are passive and a few just don’t want us foreigners here. And that’s o.k. No one is a hero and perhaps we make only a tiny difference, such as picking up a crying child for a moment. But they have a right to resent us considering history and the wealth gap so we must accept all of that or not come. There have been many who have made a large difference however, such as Bob Birnbaum and crew of OH Africa, who treat many with lifesaving retrovirals and run the Tsepong clinic.

I continue to be overwhelmed with wonderful and exotic sights sounds and smells.

Some of these I may capture and show everyone back home, but many I can not.

The wonderful baby of the Bytown, three year old Weetumeng, sitting on the debris covered floor of the hot dining room watching the final game of the Africa cup on the TV behind bars, sucking on a long deceased corn cob, so happy. I think the moments I have most treasured have been short and spontaneous, such as reading a chapter to a teen who “ suddenly got it” or sharing an unripe peach with a three year old. I also really enjoy helping with the farm, no surprise, and am making a few good recommendations. Tomorrow I go to Leribe for the day to give a riding lesson, should be fun as the horses and tack could be a bit unpredictable. Back to the orphanage for the long run after that. Wish me luck and hello to all at home.

Discussing chickens

First week at the Orphanage

My routine in the orphange is orderly and quiet. I start the day picking up eggs and have befriended the small, slightly fierce keeper of the poultry- Puleng. She is softening as I show up every day to help her and genuinely like starting the day as a farmer. I am learning Excel and will do a new monthly ledger for the production to track the costs/profits etc . This will hopefully help the Sisters apply for and get more funding and birds.

I then help with the preschool until noon, singing, practicing colors and numbers, playing repetitive games designed to teach English. Things often get out of hand as they realize we are not able to speak Sesotho or discipline them and we call in the Sisters for reinforcement. I am finding it difficult not to be able to communicate, but generally can make up games that are universal. One of the favorites is singing.....brought a tambourine and have fashioned spoons and sticks into a band. Tweenkla Tweenkla Leetle Star will never be the same. Animal noises are popular too !

I then have a couple quiet hours and have started writing the final chapters of my personal Herriot book. Good to be back at it.
After school, the older ones like to play cards with me or a game outside. The girls favorite game is trying to build a pile of bricks while avoiding being hit by a ball made up of plastic bags. They play barefoot, there is no cost, and it never gets old ! The boys play soccer ( there is only one ball). I may help with the computer lab, but its the domain of the other volunteer here Phillip- young guy from Ottawa.

At night there is study hall from 7-9 and I am busy tutoring for those 2 hours. I have had to remember some math and physics ( wish it were better) but my Biology, Chemistry and English help is top notch ( thanks to Tory my niece) I am enjoying this too..

Last night I saw the most wonderful concert after dinner. Friday night they always do traditional song and dance. The kids make more music with pails, hands, feet and voices than most boom boxes. There was a dance for the girls with white grass type skirts with bottle caps sewn into and under them and they threw them up with their behinds, as well they did a shoulder dance that was amazing. The boys did more of a Stomp production that was also excellent. I look forward to every Friday night and perhaps videoing it. The ladies who live there, sing and create startling vocal calls and noises throughout. Another very different experience.
I have been consigned to paint a mural around the top of the dining hall, based on the drawings of animals I have made for the kids to color. I Will make stencils and get the supplies next week. This will probably be my most lasting legacy here.

Herd Boys

My friend M'e Julia - who rode with me

Testing vision with a shoe box

Trip to Thaba Tseka

We left on Tues the 29th , four of us in the 4X4 Toyota truck, with many well wishes to enjoy the drive and the area around Thaba Tseka, a town isolated in the interior mountains. Our truck was full of clothes and shoes, knapsacks, suitcases and food- oh yes some spare diesel. The 120 km trip is 5 hrs long. The first part was a gentle climb through hills such as we have already seen travelling to distribute clothing, mud rondavels everywhere in small clusters, people walking through fields and along the roads , small tin storefronts. The exciting part begins suddenly as we began to climb to the first pass in a series of dramatic switchbacks taking us to 3500 metres….may I say unrelentingly ! The view around each turn was incredible. We then proceeded downward in the same way, in 2nd the whole time, only to repeat this three times over three passes. We then saw the incredible Khatse Dam, responsible for 35% of the GDP via the sale of water to South Africa- and also responsible for the HIV crisis in this area in a way that sadly may not be mentioned here. After that, we drove on incredibly bumpy dirt roads for 2 hours until we reached our destination.

There are 5 twinned schools here, and we are to visit them all, get updates on the sponsored children and outfit them. As well, there are projects to consider and evaluate- should we restock cattle and poultry to the schools if mortality high and production low. Should we provide stoves for the winter or new desks? One school I particularly liked was Khatlehong, great students and teachers. Good results in their national exams- well worth support…yet they need so much. Classrooms have 67 and 75 kids, desks are falling apart and some children sit 4 where there should be 2, or on a metal frame with no seat or desk top. Mostly they need 3 new classrooms- I will spend an hour tomorrow with a lady in charge of poultry and try to write a proposal and budget for restocking then layers and broilers and how to make it work so it feeds the kids here, all short on protein, as well as creating sales or a profit. I am outside my comfort zone, but I am all they have and I know if I was here a month I could get it up and running for them. First to write the proposal and get the approval for funds and thus the birds in hand !

The town is a little wild west, more like the original untouched Basotholand . There is one main street with heavy gravel and lots of small stores and vendors. Herd boys come into town with their animals to pick up feed bags, lots of riders everywhere. There is a hospital and a nursing school and also a few houses build by Canadians in the 80s when CIDA was here doing medical development. Children playing everywhere you look, happy voices- content with very little. I sat down this morning for a moment after a hot walk and was soon surrounded, little ones that love to touch my white skin and study my eyes and of course the older boys wanting to wear my sunglasses. They are curious and enchanting. There are always a few whites around, “Lahota”, development people and doctors, and we seem to be welcome for the most part. You can hear the occasional slur or has a stone thrown at the car, but then it is balanced by so many being kind and so many soft greetings “ Dumella”……in the street.

Another school we visited was Sefapanong- the outpost. It took an hour to drive there….about 5 km. It is on a hill and we had to off road in the incredible Toyota again !

We are talking off roading as in heads banging on the windows of the truck. The teachers greet us, present their concerns. Me Mampake the orphan leader interviews the orphans and sponsored children and gets updates and I- you guessed it- talked about chickens for an hour and came up with a project proposal and made recommendations to HL and the school.

The last day of our visit, I got up early and to the home of my favorite teacher and new friend Me Julia.She is 55, dignified yet incredibly fun ( joined us for cards the first night). She has 6 children, but many are married and gone, yet she is raising several grandchildren and two orphans…..she and her husband are teachers. She is HIV positive and takes her ARV meds cheerfully and lets the children in her class know and help care for her. She is magnetic- the kids love her…and she volunteered to set up a ride for me and pulled it off. The horses are like small standardbred -arab crosses, small hard muscle and incredibly strong and fit. She came with me and the two guides and we rode for three hours. Ended up doing a jaunt thru town to meet a new seamstress (for uniforms) and we parked the horse several times to meet her friends….she had not ridden for years. The highlight was leaving the horses to graze and standing on a cliff a mile over a twisting river- scenery I can’t describe- with people and mules far below, walking into town. Or was the highlight seeing her canter around her schoolyard hollering and the kids pouring out of their classes laughing and cheering. We had “Sour Porridge” for sustenance ( kind of like cream of wheat with vinegar in it )and carried on.

More on the herd boys. I will never forget them but cannot take their pictures. It is one of the major faces of Lesotho to me. They are young boys, not in school, and they are everywhere. There are no fences for livestock and so they are guarded. It may be 2 cattle or 20 angora goats with a mule thrown in. Their lives are in danger if they lose these animals. All through the country side and over the hills, they spend the day alone. They take no food and have no conveniences and can’t read or write. They dress in blankets, often dark grey and raggy, over red shorts and wear white rubber boots. They commonly carry colorful sticks and wear balaclavas with only eye holes. Sometimes the blankets are the colorful Basotho blankets, but there is always one or more blankets draped over them.

It is an image I had never imagined, but completely the norm here.

We are home again today, having written proposals, made new friends and dropped off all stuff for the kids. I gave my two pairs of reading glasses away and last saw one of them on a schoolgirl walking through town. I will somehow get more glasses back here. Some kids can't see the board.

Have groceries in hand while we have the truck….will wash clothes and off to then orphanage tomorrow for the next 6 weeks and an entirely new project and new friends !!