Kea Kula - Donkey Transport!

I recently got some pretty severe blisters on both feet. And while not a serious injury, the blisters were bad enough that I couldn’t really walk, and was reduced to hobbling around painfully. Through my “injuries” I got to see a side of my village that was really beautiful. Word that I was “sick” (the Sesotho word kula applies for skin injuries as well as normal sicknesses) got around the village remarkably fast, everyone I passed asked how I was doing and if my feet were better or cured. It was heartwarming to have so many people concerned about my well-being. The village support group is a group of women in the village that assists orphans, elderly and sick people in the village, and who I have worked a lot with. Two member of the support group came by my house to check on me and see if there was anything they could do to help. My host mother brought me water so I wouldn’t have to carry buckets from the river. She also helped bandage my feet, while it may seem a bit strange and wasn’t really unnecessary, it was truly nice to feel so cared for. It made me feel like a real part of the community, being included in their system of caring for each other.

Since it’s only a week away from the opening of the community center, I had too much work to take time off for my feet to recover. For the first couple of days I couldn’t really walk, so I asked around to borrow a donkey. Every other family in the village has a donkey or two to carry grain to the local mill. Horses cost too much for me to rent as a Peace Corps volunteer, and if they aren’t trained well can be very difficult to ride. Falling of a donkey on the other hand is more comical than painful. I don’t think the guys I borrowed the donkey from trusted that I could stay on, on my own. And again, while unnecessary, it was very nice for them to escort me in case I should tip over and tumble off my little donkey. Admittedly, it’s not easy to ride without a saddle or reins (you steer a donkey by hitting it on either side of its neck with a stick). I’m teaching beginning English weekly at the community center, so more people try and greet me in English now, and called out to me “donkey transport!” It’s technically correct, but I didn’t really know how to respond, so I usually said something like “yes, I got a nice fat one today.”

After a week and a half, I am better enough that I can shuffle to work without needing a donkey. But the experience has allowed me to see how with such little resources the people of my village take care of each other. There may not be western medicine available to treat all their aliments, but there definitely will be a team of people there to help in any way they can and probably with some local remedy.

Self-Reflections after a Year and a Half

Living in Lesotho, in my village, has really changed me, which was something that seemed very scary when I first signed up. I don’t think I have necessarily become a “better person.” I’ve become very un-politically correct, am no longer horrified by corporeal punishment at the schools, nor am I necessarily a nicer person. If I see a man eagerly coming over to talk to me, my first response is to ignore him, then to be rude to get him to leave me alone. I’ve just had way too many experiences where I am treated like an object that someone wants, or as someone who has money to give away. I’ve also seen too many projects, great ideas not take shape because no one bothered to show up. I’m afraid I’m becoming cynical. And I am ashamed to admit: I have littered. Having said all that, I do truly love the people here, there is a friendliness and openness that I haven’t seen anywhere else. And they have helped change my perspective, for the better, about many things.

I think most of us that come here in Peace Corps do it just as much for personal adventure as to altruistically help a community. I hope I have helped (and will continue to help) my community, but it is nothing compared with what I’ve gotten from being a part of them. And that is the biggest change I’ve seen in myself – seeing the “reality” of how people live here and what really matters, it’s the people. Not the work, education or accomplishments, but the relationships you have with people and a real community that supports and entertains each other.

Peace Corps has given me a lot of time for self-reflection, I know myself better than I had ever hoped, or even really wanted to. I have a self-reproach/guilt that drives me, that I was only ever faintly aware of before. I have had such a happy, golden childhood and life, I’ve faced so little hardship and pain that it doesn’t really seem fair. I don’t feel like I’ve done anything to deserve the amazing family and friends that I was born into and the advantages I grew up with. While I am, in general, very happy, I have a subconscious drive to atone or make myself worthy of it all, which has unwittingly motivated me in so many of my decisions. Joining Peace Corps is one of the most obvious ones, but it hasn’t assuaged the guilt, in fact it has made me think that I am even luckier than I did before. I’ve struggled some while being here, it certainly hasn’t always been “golden”, but if anything it has motivated me more. I don’t think I can go back to what I was doing a couple of years ago.

I still have 8 more months left.