The things that happen on my walks to school…

Streaky Bacon

 

It pinches and slaps

My face.

The cold air is a welcome

Reminder:

Winter is near.

Inhaling

Exhaling

Ice cubes.

The mountains are silhouettes,

Props on the stage,

Cardboard cut outs,

A shock each time I take in their

Wonderous beauty.

It’s at that moment,

Soaking in the bucolic morning,

Pondering my life without these

mountains,

Stopped still in the dirt road,

Trying to capture it all,

When the silence

The still

Quiet

Is

Shattered

Piercing,

Ear plugs required

Curdling

Screams

Attack the air

Stronger than the cold

A life taken,

All for some

Streaky

Bacon.

🐷

Happy photos

Hiking with my pals

I take this photo at least once a week because I can never capture the beauty fully

A photo from our mid-service conference! We made it halfway!

Drawing a cat in the dirt! This cat is what kids draw on their paper before they write so they know where to put each part of the letter. Ex: the tail of the cat is where the tail of a ‘j’ goes, the head is where the dot above an ‘i’ goes.

My silly kiddos

this place is amazing

tacos!

Practicing running for sports competitions

This is the Queen of Lesotho!! I met her and she’s super cool. She is working on a campaign that wants to provide sanitary pads for all high school girls.

Carl’s super cute kitty, Tau, which means Lion.

During singing, kids usually hold hands. Not sure why but it’s really sweet. Even the boys do it!

Maize harvesting season, finally! I could not have taken this picture last year because there wasn’t any rain last year which meant there wasn’t any maize.

Chickens on a stoop

My handprint wall! Every person that comes to visit gets to put their handprint on my wall so that I can remember all my awesome friends and family! There is a wide variety of hand prints, from PC staff to volunteers to Basotho to friends from the US, I am a very lucky person!

Drying peaches with a curious cat.

Rich, the baby, and my best friend. PS look at my crazy Chaco tan!

This is a photo from the 1st of a 3 day walking trip. 72 miles, 3 days, VERY large blisters, and a story to tell forever.

This is the last day of the walking trip. Our final destination was Thaba Bosiu, written on this sign. I thought that meant we were close…we were not.

Playing a movie for 5 year olds always proves entertaining.

Practicing for the long jump!

A happy post

Hello!

It’s been a while since I’ve updated you on my life here in Lesotho. For a while, poetry was what helped me decompress all the trying times as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Lesotho, but that doesn’t mean my poetry described the only good things happening here. Sure, Peace Corps is 100% accurate when they say “The hardest job you’ll ever love,” but there are also many good things happening every day. Here are somethings I’ve been doing in the past months:

1. Started a Life Skills after school club. This club was very successful last year, and we are working on making sure what we taught in it will be inserted into the normal school day hours. In Life Skills we lead classes on topics from creativity and relationships to safe sex practices and HIV/AIDS. In a country that has 25% of its people living with HIV, it’s really important to help youth learn about the virus, understand how it works, and how they can prevent themselves from contracting it. It’s also important (since many children in schools were born with HIV) to teach that having HIV is not a death sentence. If you take your medicine, eat properly, and exercise, you can lead and healthy and long life. The stigma attached to HIV here makes it difficult to talk about sometimes, and can lead to people not taking their medicine because they are scared others will find out their status. Life Skills classes work to talk about HIV to try and erase the stigma associated with HIV.
2. Phonics Workshop. Some of my co teachers, especially those in the younger grades, do not have an education past high school, and those who do still do not have a firm grasp on primary school education. One of the goals of Peace Corps in Lesotho is teacher training. So, working with my teachers and materials I received from Peace Corps, the teachers from Grades 1-3 and I have been working on the basics of Phonics so that they will be better able to teach their students how to read.
3. Co-teaching. As I said, one main goal here is to improve the quality of teaching in Lesotho. So, this year I am focusing on co-teaching. This means when I am in the classroom it is with a co-teacher by my side. We plan together the day before the class so we know what will happen the next day, and we use each other’s strengths to create an effective classroom learning space. Wow, that sounded really great. As much as I would love to say that all that plays out perfectly, sadly, it’s not true. Working on co-teaching has been a HUGE issue, but it gets better each day. As a second year PCV, I’m involved in many things outside of my site, and I’ve been absent for a lot of school this year. Being absent one day means I can’t plan and teach the next, so if I miss one day, it’s really like I miss 2. When co-teaching does go well, however, it goes great! The goal is to work with my co-teachers to introduce different teaching techniques, talk about different learning styles, and to spice up the teaching at my school. My school (and most schools where PCVs work) are struggling to perform well on the Primary School Leaving Exam. Last year, only 1 student failed, which is good, but no students received 1st class (the top marks) overall. My hope is that if we continue to improve co-teaching, the teachers will adopt new and varied teaching styles and be able to keep improving the learning and teaching in the school even after I leave.
4. 2017 Camp MOYOLO! This has not happened yet, but my counterpart/principal and I have been working a lot to make it happen. In June of this year we will hold a 3 day camp for students in Grades 6 and 7 from our school and 6 other surrounding schools. MOYOLO stands for Metolong (my village) Youth Optimizing Leadership Opportunities. This camp will focus on educating the campers on leadership skills, HIV/AIDS, other life skills, creativity, and gender equality. At the end of the camp the campers (6 from each school) will have the tools to return to their school to create a student council. This student council will allow the students to have leadership roles in their school, creating an important feeling of ownership for their education. In the student council the students will be able to make decisions about events, clubs, after school activities, and other ways to improve their school. I will post again after the camp finishes to report back how the camp went!

 

These are just some of the activities I have been focusing on this year, and I hope to add more. Next week I’ll be going to Johannesburg, South Africa, to take the GRE, so that I can apply for graduate school while I am here. It is difficult to balance planning for life back in the US and planning for life in the country where I currently reside, but I’m making it work (most of the time).

I’ve thought a lot about how I will explain Lesotho and the Peace Corps to people when I am back in the US, but I haven’t come up with much. So I wrote a poem to start:

Do you know Lesotho?

Words can scratch the surface,

A photo can try,

But the only way to truly see it,

Is with the naked eye.

It’s not one way

Or the other

It’s both of them combined.

A child with her mother,

A baby behind.

It’s the sun rising behind the mountains

The rooster calling out

It’s the water flowing from the tap,

A soccer player’s shout.

It’s the crumbling dirt road,

Dust swirling all around,

A donkey braying in the distance

Quick! Turn around!

It’s the horse speeding by,

The bo-me saying Hi

It’s the crisp winter air,

Trees filled with blossoms in spring

The strength of the summer sun

Colors changing in autumn,

Oh what fun!

Do you know Lesotho?

It’s trying to describe

You can’t be sure

If you’ll ever be fair

It’s more than seeing me there.

To know Lesotho,

You must speak Sesotho

And meet a Mosotho

And live with the Basotho.

To know Lesotho,

You have to be patient

and willing

To accept all things that come

Good or chilling.

To know Lesotho,

An open mind is needed

You won’t have it your way

But then,

If you did,

You’d be cheated.

Cheated from an experience

Similar to no other

An experience,

You’ll be sure,

to tell your mother.

To know Lesotho

You must realize

There are no lions or tigers

No elephants or leopards

No hippos or giraffes.

There are

Donkeys and cows,

Sheeps and goats,

Cats, the small ones,

And dogs, not the wild ones.

There are people,

Tall and short,

Fat and thin,

Good and bad,

They’re probably your kin.

These people will help

When you are lost

When you are hungry

When you are tired

When you are sad.

These people are

Your family

Your friends

Your confidants

Your people.

To know Lesotho,

Come and visit.

It’s only 15 hours

away.

 

 

As I said, words can only scratch the surface, so this is just a brief taste of life here in Lesotho.

 

Kea le rata! (I love you all!)

Katie

 

Poems that continue to be dark

Hello avid readers!

As this blog has turned into mostly my occasional poetry, and poetry doesn’t come to me all the time, my posts are (as they have been) going to be fairly irregular in timing. Recently, I’ve been forgetting to bring my book or kindle to school, so in my free periods I’ve been working on a new poem. Hope you enjoy! Also I am very sorry to my grandparents for the choice word..not much rhymes with birth certificate!

 

In this world of doing things,
You might try to do alone,
But because you’ve got big dreams,
You have to pick up a phone.
You can try to change minds,
You can try to create a passion,
But if you’re in a bind,
You’ll be alone in the trash bin
of great ideas
and world changing thoughts
That brought you to tears
Because none of them caught.

In this world of doing things,
you have to find a hand.
One that has big big dreams
And will help you understand.

Why school starts at 8
and you can’t be late.
But the meeting started at 4
and no one’s at the door.

Or why the rooster crows when the sun’s not out,
And why the teachers scream and shout.

Why the kids keep coming
When all they get is a beating.
And the blows are numbing,
But they have to keep eating.

Why no one can help
because they need a birth certificate
And the government came
But they didn’t do sh**.

Why no one will talk about sex
but everyone’s dying of AIDS
And anyone could be next
But the interest always fades.

Why the schools are failing
and the priest keeps complaining
while the children are wailing
because the water supply is draining.

Why people can’t understand
that a high five does the trick
And the teachers say they’ve planned
But then they call in sick.
In this world of doing things
You need to find a friend
One who always knows to bring
Relief when you’re at the end.

They never said it’d be easy
and they promised that you’d cry.
But I hope it doesn’t sound too cheesy:
I can’t imagine saying goodbye.

 

When I began writing this poem, my goal was to finally write a happy poem…that obviously did not work out as planned. However, life as a Peace Corps Volunteer is not always happy, and normally when I am happy I’m just soaking it in. When I’m sad or frustrated,  I find a way to vent, and thankfully I discovered poetry.

As I assume is the case in most other developing countries, many things do not make sense. You think to yourself most of the time, “if they would just do X, they could so easily accomplish Y!!” As we have seen, the most logical of things often do not happen. A good example is birth certificates. I recently found out that Basotho do not receive birth certificates when they are born, rather they wait until they are older and the ministry of home affairs or something along those lines comes out to their village and issues everyone one. Well…not everyone. A few weeks ago we had an event at school, the second attempt at having this event because the first time the government stood up my principal and we cancelled school for nothing, for the ministry to come issue birth certificates. I took my time getting to school because I knew nothing would happen for a while. I arrived at 10 am or so and there were a lot of people standing around in lines that seemed to be leading to no where. After a few hours some organizations began to arrive to sell things or display things or talk about things. One great thing from this day was that 2 organizations that provide HIV testing services came, and many people were able to find out their HIV status! A very important thing when you are living in a country where 1 in 4 people are HIV positive.

I ended up leaving around 1. The ministry had not arrived yet, but I was hungry and didn’t bring a lunch. The next day my principal said the ministry showed around 2 and finished maybe 80 birth certificates….out of the 1000+ people living in my village and surrounding areas. Good job government!

In times like these, I take a deep breath in and realize that I have no power in this situation. PCVs are not able or expected to have any sort of control on a national level, rather we work in the smaller communities where we can build trust and (hopefully) create sustainable change in our assigned areas.

 

I hope my poetry gives you a little bit of a glimpse into my life here in the Mountain Kingdom.

 

Khotso out,

Shoeshoe

The Lifeguard

The Lifeguard
She scans the area
Some heads are up
Some are bobbing
Some are dipping below the surface
She tries to call out
but some are going
under.
Stop!
Wait!
I can help!
Take a breath.
But they can’t
It’s cold.
Others are succeeding..while they fail
The other guards
laugh
mock
terrorize.
Why can’t you swim?
We taught you the strokes.
We gave you a suit.
We gave you goggles.
We threw you in.
But still
You fail.
What’s wrong with you?
You are broken.
You are lazy.
You are not trying.
The lifeguard tries
to pull them from above
to draw a breath from them
to throw out a raft.
But
they’re gone.
they’re under.
They can’t hear anything
with water in their ears.

I’ve begun to write poems after long days at school, lonely days at site, or super happy times. It has helped me destress and reflect on good times in my service.

sorry to interrupt, but Tsoanelo took over. HELLLLLOOOOOO AMERICA/Katie’s amigos/as

That being said, enjoy the poem and interpret it as you will.

In other news, yesterday was the first day of winter, so it’s pretty cold here! Where I live in the lowlands, most days are warmed by the sun, while the nights and mornings are very cold. Lots of soup and hot chocolate are saving me on my coldest nights!
School has ended for the first semester, and we’ll start again on August 1. My students performed really well on their end of semester exams and I’m so excited! Hopefully they’ll improve even more throughout the rest of the next semester.

Happy summer if you’re in the northern hemisphere and happy winter if you’re in the south!

Khotso out,
Katie

What is your name?

The title is written (in my mind) in a mosotho child’s accent. Volunteers get asked this a lot because it’s usually the only phrase young children know. Volunteers will know this sound.. And so will the 8 of you who are coming to visit me! (Shout out family and my 5 best friends in the entire world). 

Anyway here’s a poem for you avid readers. 

Forming letters 

I still can’t write my name well.
You know,
in school
when you begin to write your name?
It takes a long time
to make the letters look nice.
Over
and
over
You trace K-A-T-I-E.
Finally,
you write it perfectly.
You begin to personalize it.
Maybe a ❤️ over the i
a curly tip on the e
all cursive
no cursive
block letters.
Now,
I write the letters
Over
and
over.
S-H-O-E-S-H-O-E.
Now,
Ke Shoeshoe.
The letters don’t look nice.
I haven’t begun to personalize it. But, I’m undoubtedly

Shoeshoe.

A beautiful flower.

As I’ve said in a previous post, I have a different name here: Shoeshoe, pronounced shwayshway. It’s essentially a glorified dandelion. It’s kind of like naming your child Lily or Rose. My host mother gave me the name, and I love it. It’s not a very common name, which is nice so I don’t have to turn around every 2 seconds when someone calls my name. There are a lot of common names here, Thabo is kind of like John. Palesa, Mpho, Thato, Limpho. Common names. The great thing about names here is that all of them (ok all but like 3) have meanings. Palesa=flower, Mpho=gift, Rethabile=we are happy, Tebello=we have been waiting for you, it goes on and on. 

Though many names are nice happy things, there are also sad/bad names. These names are used when something happens before a baby’s birth. Perhaps the elder child died or there was a miscarriage. So some children are named Ntja or Lefu, Dog or Funeral. There is also teardrop and many other names. Pretty rough for a kid. 

Some people are named for where they were born or how. One name means Late, another means Place of Rain. 

It’s pretty sad when Basotho ask what my American name means and I have to explain that most American names don’t mean anything. Though I’m happy not to be named Funeral. 

Khotso out. 

Going for a ride

The following poem is an ode to the experience of public transportation in this country. 

The man behind me has a chicken
The man behind me has a chicken

Safely wrapped in a plastic bag 

It’s head pokes out trough the handle

But it doesn’t squawk at all. 

The woman beside me has a baby 

Strapped onto her back 

You’d think it would get smushed

But there are no whimpers from under the blanket 

The child in the front 

eats red crackers

Dying her entire hand a deep maroon 

While her lips smack happily 

On the packing peanut like treat. 

The women pass around 

A big bottle of Coca Cola 

Each bringing out a straw 

They keep in their purse.

The speakers above me 

Visibly buzz in their places 

Ear splitting whistles fill the white car

So that I’m surprised when we the women can converse. 

It creaks and it rumbles

Over rough dirt roads

and finally 

Screeches to a halt beside my gate.

I can’t wait to go on the taxi next week. 
It’s definitely an adventure every time I use public transportation in Lesotho, but that’s what makes it interesting! What else would I do for 2.5 hours to the capital other than watch the cute babies and stare at the chicken or sheep on board with us? Sometimes the taxi breaks down and you have to wait a while for it to either be fixed or for a backup taxi to come get you. Sometimes there are 23 people 3 animals and 5 babies in a 15 passenger vehicle. Sometimes your ears are ringing from the sound of the music blaring through the speakers. But always, it’s a community in that little taxi. As long as you make polite conversation, people (mostly the women) will look out for you and your things. 

I’ve gotten to the point where all the drivers know where I live so even if I’m not paying attention they’ll stop the car. I’m also incredibly lucky to have a taxi that drops me off at the gate to my house. Some people have to walk (or hike) 30 minutes-1 hour down a road to reach their site. Hooray for accessibility!

I haven’t taken a picture in a taxi yet, but I’ll be sure to post it here when I do! 

Khotso out. 

Some photos for your enjoyment

 

This is my younger sister from my training village. She goes to an amazing school in Maseru, and we got to visit!

  

‘M’e , abuti, le na (mother, brother, and me)

  

The ride before we went down the waterfall!

  

Carl and me posing with the waterfall before we bounced down beside it

  

My absolutely amazing language teachers. They’re the reason I was top of my class!

  
  

A view of the “special” mountains 😉

  

Suiting up for abseiling

  

My coworker made me a mug!!

  

cuties on the walk home from school

  

I don’t have this shot of myself..but this is what it looks like right when you step over the edge!

  

Regretting letting laundry pile up…handwashing all of that was not fun

  

Happy Caturday!

 

The classroom

Bang my head against the wall  
This is a song I like 

And also something 

I want to do frequently  

When the children 

Dark faces 

Dark eyes 

Shaved heads 

Only manage 

Yeeees tea cha.

As a response. 

The English I have spoken 

Bounces in their heads 

Never finding meaning. 

So 

Out of fear 

Fear of being hit 

Fear of being laughed at 

Fear of being right 

Fear of being wrong 

They say 

Yeeeees tea cha.   
   

This is a glimpse into daily life with my students. Responding to authority figures is a big thing here, so kids think they should just say that they understand all the time. Also, in previous classes they may have been beaten, punished or ridiculed for answering a question wrong, so they’re just scared to participate at all. Also, my accent is pretty difficult for them to understand. While I speak very slowly, my Basotho co teachers can speak quickly in English just because the kids understand their accents. All of the above has improved greatly since the beginning of the school year, but of course there’s still more work to be done. 

After Phase 3 training I was a little anxious to go back to school, I just didn’t know if I could do it. But right when I got to school and saw some of my students, I remembered why I’m here. These kids are amazing and resilient. Peace Corps volunteers can take some lessons from them. They work hard at home, and try hard during school time. 

Yesterday, I gave my Class 6 their 1st quarter assessment. While the grades range from 13-91% many of them are starting to improve and it’s such a good and happy sign. 

The biggest struggle right now is getting other teachers on board with making positive change. It doesn’t seem they have a lot of respect for my principal, therefore, anything he suggests is pretty much out the window, and he makes some really good suggestions so it’s a pity. 

All in all, I love my students and wouldn’t trade them for the world. They’re a big reason I’m still here. 
I’ve really liked starting to write poems about this experience, no matter how inexperienced of a poet I am. So if you have any questions about life here, shoot me an email or comment below and I’d be happy to elaborate via poem 🙂

Khotso out 

  

  Some of my beautiful 7th graders ❤️

Bo-‘m’e ba ka

The following poem is an ode to the 2 women who have raised the Mosotho side of me while I’ve been discovering and struggling with the life here in Lesotho.

Bo-‘m’e ba ka

My Basotho mothers

are as different as can be.

Even I

am different with them.

For one I am Tebello.

For the other I am Shoeshoe.

One claps and cheers

every time I return home.

The other greets with a soft

lumela ausi.

One is very big.

Squishy in all the right places.

The other is smaller

tighter.

One is constantly beaming

“my daughter”

she says

“Tebello is my daughter!”

The other does not smile too often,

but when she does,

my heart leaps,

for her face changes

completely.

All years of worry and hard work

go away

with her radiant smile.

Sometimes

I say the words wrong

just to make her smile.

My Basotho mothers are

strong

and

independent

and so different.

But no matter how they show it,

they have one thing in common,

their love for me.

And for that

I will be eternally

grateful.

 

From October 6-December 18, I lived in a village Peace Corps has been using as a training village for 3 years. Each volunteer stays with a family, and learns the culture through this family and the surrounding community members. We cook with the families for 4 weeks, learning how to make the traditional papa and moroho (essentially grits and spinach), before we are released to make any food we want (pizza, when we have cheese).

After swearing in on December 16, I moved to my permanent village, where I have been since then. I stay with a single old woman, who is the chief of the tiny village within a village where I live. She laughs at my attempts to speak some Sesotho words, but mostly she helps me when I struggle, or says “aaache Shoeshoe” when I should know something I don’t. She has 4 grown daughters, who have visited, and who I love so much. They all have their own children as well and I long for the day when we are all together.

 

 

In recent news, I have just returned from Easter break. School starts tomorrow and I am excited (and nervous) to bring some helpful changes to my classes. Before break began the other volunteers and I went back to our training villages and stayed with our host families for another week, one last week of training. During this we learned more and better teaching practices, practiced our Sesotho, and talked about cultural issues/differences we were experiencing. This was called Phase 3, because PC splits up training into 3 parts (Phase 1: Oct-Dec, Phase 2: 3 months at the new site, Phase 3: little touch ups). After Phase 3 I was ready to get back into action at school and improve many things! Then we went on vacation. It was amazing and spectacular and beautiful. We went to Semonkong, which is a historic part of Lesotho with the highest waterfall. The best part was abseiling (rappelling down beside the waterfall). We all got soaked but the views were incredible. The lodge where we stayed was perfect, and I had my first shower since October! (Don’t worry I still bathe…just in a bucket.) Anyhow, tomorrow school begins for the 2nd half of the 1st semester..here we go!
  The photo at the beginning of this post is my host mother at my current site. This photo directly above is my host mother from my training village and me during my swearing in ceremony.