When I first for my Peace Corps assignment, all that I was told was that I’d be in Lesotho, working with communities on HIV/AIDS. I was very excited about living in Lesotho, but less so about working on the AIDS pandemic. It just seemed like such a monumental and depressing task. We were told that the official prevalence rate was 24% of people in Lesotho were infected with HIV. It sounds like a lot, but it is totally different to be in the middle of it, to see all the sickness and death. It’s everywhere and it effects everyone. It has decimated such a friendly, loving people. After being here for a year and seeing its terrible pervasive effects, I wouldn’t want to focus on anything else. Even though the average family has 3-4 children, there is still negative population growth, it’s that bad.
In my village there aren’t really any good figures on how many people are infected. There is a lot of stigma and prejudice about being HIV positive, so most people won’t talk about it (which is a big part of the problem). But in my village of 204 families, there are 85 children who have lost one parent, and 33 children who have lost both parents and are still in primary/elementary school.
Besides teaching about HIV in the schools, I am helping to start a community center in my village. One that focuses on orphans, a place where they can have a community garden and chicken coup, so they can have a regular source of healthy food. The center will also provide classes for out of school youth and a variety of workshops. The purpose of the center is to be a resource, to address whatever issues or needs the community thinks are the most important. HIV prevention and education are going to be a big part, and I really hope it helps. As one village woman said during my household survey, “the biggest problem in the village is that children keep dying.”
Friday, August 19, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
2 Weeks Being an American Again
I left my freezing, sleepy village in Lesotho in the middle of winter for two weeks of summer back in the U.S. with friends and family. I can only imagine what I looked like in the airport when I arrived. After traveling for days and with dirt from the village still ground in, smiling and crying at everything. I hadn’t seen my family in a year. It doesn’t sound that long, but living in a rural village that did not have electricity, computers or TV, the pace was unbelievably slow. Since I was back where I had access to a car and a phone with almost unlimited minutes, I was able to fit practically an entire summer into two weeks. I went swimming, ice skating, to the movies, grilled burgers and had picnics. But the best part of being back in the U.S. was definitely being with my friends and family. I was really touched by how far some of my friends traveled and how they rearranged their schedules and lives for me. I was relieved to find that our relationships had not seemed to have changed. We had new stories and new jobs or schools, but we were still just us, excited to be catching up after so long.
I also met with my professors and did some research while I was in the U.S. I compiled all the data from my household survey and looked for correlations. I found some interesting relationships between gender and life satisfaction. Even though (or perhaps because of) all the domestic work that women do, the many hours a day they spend doing chores, they generally claimed to have a higher level of life satisfaction. My village very recently got electricity, and it will be interesting to see how it changes their lives. Electrification potentially may impact women more because of all the time intensive chores that would change. And possibly, women will not spend as many hours together socializing during chores and electricity may negatively impact their social ties in a way that it doesn’t for men. It will be interesting to actually see the relationship and changes between gender equity and development in my village.
After being gone for a year, several things about the U.S. surprised me. How green and leafy everything was. Also how dependent everyone seemed on their phones, which seem to be getting alarmingly smart. And how much of people’s lives were online now, updating everything on Facebook. It seemed to me that we in the U.S. are so wrapped up in our electronics and our digital lives that there must be so much that we are missing. The pace of life in the U.S. was alarming, it felt almost uncontrollably fast. I think that impression came from being away from it all for 13 months, but also that things have actually gotten faster. So many things are instantly available. I miss my friends and family immensely, I also often miss the access and ability to get things done so quickly, but I’m a little scared of returning to that accelerating pace and way of life. Luckily for me, I’m back in Lesotho for another entire year.
I also met with my professors and did some research while I was in the U.S. I compiled all the data from my household survey and looked for correlations. I found some interesting relationships between gender and life satisfaction. Even though (or perhaps because of) all the domestic work that women do, the many hours a day they spend doing chores, they generally claimed to have a higher level of life satisfaction. My village very recently got electricity, and it will be interesting to see how it changes their lives. Electrification potentially may impact women more because of all the time intensive chores that would change. And possibly, women will not spend as many hours together socializing during chores and electricity may negatively impact their social ties in a way that it doesn’t for men. It will be interesting to actually see the relationship and changes between gender equity and development in my village.
After being gone for a year, several things about the U.S. surprised me. How green and leafy everything was. Also how dependent everyone seemed on their phones, which seem to be getting alarmingly smart. And how much of people’s lives were online now, updating everything on Facebook. It seemed to me that we in the U.S. are so wrapped up in our electronics and our digital lives that there must be so much that we are missing. The pace of life in the U.S. was alarming, it felt almost uncontrollably fast. I think that impression came from being away from it all for 13 months, but also that things have actually gotten faster. So many things are instantly available. I miss my friends and family immensely, I also often miss the access and ability to get things done so quickly, but I’m a little scared of returning to that accelerating pace and way of life. Luckily for me, I’m back in Lesotho for another entire year.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Visiting a Sangoma – Beads, Bottles and Bones
Last week I visited a sangoma, a traditional doctor, in the neighboring village. Traditional doctors get a lot of respect and have a lot of power in Basotho culture. Not just political power, but actual magical power. They can see the future and talk to ancient ancestors, even the recent dead. They can cure people of bad luck and curses, as well as place curses on people. It is generally thought that only the “evil” traditional doctors, called witches, will curse people. Some curses can even kill the victims, lightning strike is a very popular method I’ve been told. Luckily, there are no evil witches by my village, but there are several sangomas that do a good business in curing curses, illnesses (often caused by curses) and getting rid of bad spirits.
I was excited to meet and have my fortune read by one of these powerful Basotho. The sangoma was a older woman, with a shaved head and wearing a lot of red and white beads. She was very friendly, and we chatted for a bit before she led me into her hut designated for her sangoma work. There were animal skins on the ground, which we sat on, and little bottles filled with medicines lining the walls. There must have been hundreds of them, all different sizes, the medicines were mostly roots and powders in old paint bottles (which took away from the mysteriousness). The sangoma lit a candle and chanted into a hollow pipe, then held it to her ear to hear the ancestors or spirits’ reply. She then shook some bones (with a domino and dice with them) and read my fortune from how they landed on the animal skin. I did not grow up believing in the magic of traditional doctors, so I remain skeptical, but I do not doubt her insight and great ability to understand people. Some of what she told me I am supposed to keep a secret, but she did make one prediction that I especially liked: my grandfather that died long ago is looking after me and keeping me safe. She also warned me that a small dark woman (which describes just about every other person here) is jealous of me and sent a Tokolose (a cheeky spirit, often in the shape of a tiny bearded man, that is always up to mischief) to sneak into my house at night and bewitch me. And if I returned for another visit (and paid more money) she could remove the Tokolose and give me a protective charm against this woman.
After the fortune reading there was a ceremony to commemorate the four months of mourning one sangoma finished after the death of her daughter. All the family members got their heads shaved and all their clothes washed and one of their largest goats was slaughtered. The goat’s neck was slit and the blood was poured into a hole dug in the middle of the yard. All the sangomas in the area gathered together to sing and dance. It was a traditional dance from Swaziland, and very different from what I’ve seen here in Lesotho. The dance involved a lot of quick steps and feet movement accompanied by many people playing the drums and singing.
It was a very interesting experience, the traditional clothes and dancing were beautiful, and the fortune reading gave me goose bumps, but I don’t think I’ll be back for that charm, I think my dog can take care of any Tokolose.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
A Year of Seasons in Lesotho
ONE YEAR. I have now been in Lesotho, the Mountain Kingdom, for an entire year. It feels brief and incredibly long at the same time. And it’s only half over! I now have seen all of Lesotho’s seasons – one of the few countries in Africa that has four distinct seasons. To get a better taste of what my life has been like throughout these seasons, I’ve written a brief description of each season (which is the opposite of those back in the U.S.) :
Spring – It’s finally warming up and I can take off the extra layer of socks and long underwear. Everything is super dusty and people talk about rain coming to start the seeds growing and settle the dust a bit. There are baby animals everywhere, little goat kids and piglets at the house down the hill. The peach trees start to blossom and cover all the hills in pink (though the peaches won’t be ready for four more months)
Summer – The rains finally come, and it rains almost every day for several months. Rain turns everything green, grasses grow where there were just dirt fields and slopes, more grass than the animals can graze. The rain also means crazy lightning storms with hail pretty regularly. And my least favorite part – the mud. It makes me wonder why I ever wished for rain to settle the dust. Mud is much worse, it becomes very difficult to stay clean for more than an hour, and I am continually slipping down my muddy slope to the road. I remember waking up one night to the sound of a full river and a newly formed waterfall, just after the first rains of summer had begun.
Fall – Everything is in bloom, there are clematis flowers everywhere and ripe maize (which means roasted maize, as much as I can eat!). The rains finally stop, or at least become much less frequent, and things begin to dry up. I have to go to the river again to get my water because there isn’t rain to fill the barrel behind my house. I spend at least an hour everyday pulling thistles and burs off my dog or myself, they’re everywhere. There is a chill in the air that feels nice after the summer heat, and an early frost that kills off my promising tomato plants.
Winter – You can almost tell the exact day winter begins, the sky is cloudless and the air has a bite to it. People sit (and nap) out in the sun during the day, soaking up the warmth. At night I wear long underwear, a sweatshirt, two pairs of wool socks, and am still cold underneath my sleeping bag and two blankets. It’s not Michigan cold, it only snows occasionally here, but without heated buildings it’s a bitter cold that gets into your bones. The days are also shorter, and I’m sequestered in my house for three more hours of darkness every day.
But this winter, in July, it also means a trip home to the U.S. where it’s summer, with swimming in Lake Michigan and picnics in grassy parks!
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Lesotho Oddities
There are certain signs and oddities that remind me I’m in Lesotho, and make America seem like a distant dream-like world. Here are just a few:
-Towels are actually very nice skirts to wear around the village,
-Calamine lotion is used as a face-mask and sunblock in one.
-It takes over an hour to get a plate in the “fast food” hut.
-Why carry a small Tupperware container when you can carry it on your head? Suitcases too.
-A woman wearing gum boots is laughable, but fuzzy toe socks with flip-flops is very nice.
-KFC is fine dining, people will do almost anything for a piece of that special recipe chicken.
-A mouse, donkey, chicken intestine – if it’s meat my family will roast it up and eat it.
-MSG is a delicious spice, sprinkled on the top of any dish.
-Previous homework is actually free toilet paper, math seems to be the most popular in my family.
-Dogs are used for protection and definitely are not your best friend. Cows perhaps.
While these things may appear strange and often comical to me, I am sure that there is a much longer list the Basotho in my village could write about me. And yet, regardless of my oddities or accidental faux-pas, I am constantly greeted, accepted and loved by these remarkably friendly people.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
My Household Survey
It’s taken 40-some hours and over eight weeks, but I have now finished surveying all 210 households in my village. In the survey I go door to door, visiting and talking with every family in the village. I ask twenty questions – about what animals they have, if they have a bank account, what fuels they use, what their problems are, etc., etc. I’m doing Peace Corps as part of my master’s research in international development planning, and hopefully writing a draft of my thesis while I’m here. Then after my two years in Lesotho, going back to Cornell to finish my masters.
I can be a pretty shy person, and probably would not have taken the initiative to go door to door and talk with all the families in my village if it hadn’t been necessary for my research. But it was probably the best, most eye-opening thing I’ve done in Peace Corps. I talked with widowed HIV positive mothers, with women who were abused by drunken husbands, with a polygamous man whose wives lived right next to each other, and with many excited children yelling “good morn” no matter what time of the day it was. I have certainly learned all the names for animals in Sesotho really well. I have yet to compile the data, but some basic trends I noticed are:
Both the poorest and richest households said they were unsatisfied with their lives. The poorest because of lack of food or sicknesses, and the richest because there was always something more they wanted – a bigger house, a tv, a car, etc. It was those in the middle that claimed to be the happiest, especially those who were more religious.
Basically everyone in my village cooks and heats with wood fires, wood from the endangered cheche trees that grow around the park.
The only time men were recorded as contributing to getting the wood was when I talked with a man and a woman was not present (which I don’t think is a coincidence).
Families that stated that they felt unsafe tended to be ones where there wasn’t a man in the household.
And the only people who confided in me that they were HIV positive were older women, almost all widows. The statistics say that the actual rate of HIV positive people in my village is closer to 24%, I’m not sure whether people do not know their status or just didn’t feel comfortable telling me. But there are definitely a lot more HIV positive people in my village than I have recorded. The number of orphans and widows provide proof.
One of the saddest moments was when I was talking with a family with a little girl around 4 years old who had legions on her face, a sign of full-blown AIDS, and I wondered if her mother even knew. There were some sad moments, many rather boring ones, and some really fun ones that involved dancing, singing or food (or if I got really lucky, all three!).
My survey was intended to see what the cultural and social impacts are from getting electricity. I predict that it will negatively affect the social ties that are so important in my village. This also means that I’m going to be doing another survey a year from now, after we get our electricity officially turned on. I learned so much more, less quantifiable aspects of people’s lives which I didn’t anticipate when I started out eight weeks ago. It has definitely been one of my best experiences in Lesotho.
I can be a pretty shy person, and probably would not have taken the initiative to go door to door and talk with all the families in my village if it hadn’t been necessary for my research. But it was probably the best, most eye-opening thing I’ve done in Peace Corps. I talked with widowed HIV positive mothers, with women who were abused by drunken husbands, with a polygamous man whose wives lived right next to each other, and with many excited children yelling “good morn” no matter what time of the day it was. I have certainly learned all the names for animals in Sesotho really well. I have yet to compile the data, but some basic trends I noticed are:
Both the poorest and richest households said they were unsatisfied with their lives. The poorest because of lack of food or sicknesses, and the richest because there was always something more they wanted – a bigger house, a tv, a car, etc. It was those in the middle that claimed to be the happiest, especially those who were more religious.
Basically everyone in my village cooks and heats with wood fires, wood from the endangered cheche trees that grow around the park.
The only time men were recorded as contributing to getting the wood was when I talked with a man and a woman was not present (which I don’t think is a coincidence).
Families that stated that they felt unsafe tended to be ones where there wasn’t a man in the household.
And the only people who confided in me that they were HIV positive were older women, almost all widows. The statistics say that the actual rate of HIV positive people in my village is closer to 24%, I’m not sure whether people do not know their status or just didn’t feel comfortable telling me. But there are definitely a lot more HIV positive people in my village than I have recorded. The number of orphans and widows provide proof.
One of the saddest moments was when I was talking with a family with a little girl around 4 years old who had legions on her face, a sign of full-blown AIDS, and I wondered if her mother even knew. There were some sad moments, many rather boring ones, and some really fun ones that involved dancing, singing or food (or if I got really lucky, all three!).
My survey was intended to see what the cultural and social impacts are from getting electricity. I predict that it will negatively affect the social ties that are so important in my village. This also means that I’m going to be doing another survey a year from now, after we get our electricity officially turned on. I learned so much more, less quantifiable aspects of people’s lives which I didn’t anticipate when I started out eight weeks ago. It has definitely been one of my best experiences in Lesotho.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
My Project(s)
I’ve had some people ask about the projects that I’m working on here in Lesotho. It’s a bit difficult to explain since I'm involved in many things, so I’ve attached below the summary I submitted to Peace Corps about the work that I’d done by February. It has changed a bit, but hopefully this makes things a bit more clear.
I am working to incorporate the benefits of Maliba Lodge into the larger community. I, with another PCV, linked GRO local artisans to the lodge, where they are now selling their jewelry very successfully. I also helped establish an internship program with local schools and the local agricultural training center, where the ag students get valuable experience working on projects and small ag businesses, while the schools get ag experts to help them with their projects. I helped set up 5 agricultural projects at local schools, funded by Maliba Community Trust. The projects combine small business and environmental teachings into the schools' gardens. I also teach lifeskills at 4 local schools, one to two times a week each. Lifeskills cover topics of health, HIV/AIDS and gender issues. I also lead bi-weekly teacher workshops on lifeskills, classroom management, lesson planning, etc. I am currently working on an application for the Maliba Community Trust, so that the schools and the broader local community can apply for aid, get what they request and need, and make maintenance of previous donations part of the process. Hopefully the recipients will take more ownership in what they receive and maintain it. I am also about to begin research for my master’s thesis, conducting door-to-door household surveys.
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