Hail Storm on a Hot Tin Roof

I’ll begin with last weekend when a group of ventured to the Motse Lodge. This circa 5 km route followed a paved road past the local prison (don’t worry mom, there’s barbed wire galore and apparently it’s totally ok to put these things smack dab in the middle of a neighborhood area) and then onto a more domestic dirt road. This lodge is the stereotypical African hotel that any American would most likely stay at (on the off chance that an American would even travel to Kanye, Botswana) with thatched roof, rounded style lodging. There is also a swimming pool. So on our free Saturday afternoon a group of us seek out the bar for our fix on wine and beer. Being in a community, they advise not to disclose any information on my take on alcohol with my community simply because it is considered taboo by most respectable community members and so…the Motse Lodge is a dissociated and distant enough place to indulge. In addition, we have to answer to our host families and don’t want to run the risk of that kind of reprimand from our “parents.” I’m not complaining about the accountability factor…in fact, it’s probably good for me and it’s nice having someone keeping tabs on you and checking in with you in this unfamiliar place. Well in this long-winded account of my weekend, I really wanted to share with you my walk back. A few other girls and I decided to call it an afternoon and walk back to see where their particular houses were as we are all trying to gain a better understanding of our homestays in relation to one another. The walk was quite nice with an overcast sky, occasional thunder, and distant lightning with the pre-rain breeze. Literally as we are walking into the gates of Britt’s yard it begins raining and the rain turns to hail as we basically invite ourselves into her home for shelter. Within seconds the size of the hail increases and the wind increases and I’m so thankful to have escaped being caught in the storm. Oh, but I forgot to mention that I experienced this hail storm under a TIN ROOF! Oh, there’s video and when I figure out how to post it, I’ll share. Although I doubt it will do the experience any justice.
Karen and I live in the same neighborhood and so we decided to weather the storm through the worst part and then go back to our homes (get the pun: WEATHER the STORM?!) After which we opted to take advantage of the public transit available. We road a comvi! (I think that’s the spelling). It’s basically like a city bus just a little more “rustic.” Also, it is comparable in size, style, and smell to a Volkswagen bus from the 60s. As we are riding along the driver takes the time to offer us his selection of local honey, honeycomb pieces included, that he sells apparently as he drives around. I assume we look like succors for an authentic Botswana treat…little does he know that I’m on a volunteer’s budget! Anyway, along this ride I also witness my first DOUBLE RAINBOW IN THE SKY! I made it home satiated and feeling relatively competent from navigating my way home with the resources and circumstances at hand. These minute accomplishments are huge factors in me finding my place here and getting ahold of my bearings, so it seems relevant to mention them.
Sunday was a good day as well. Typically I have this particular dislike for Sundays because they always entail this unsettled and ominous feeling about the week to come, but somehow that has subsided in Africa. Even despite the fact that we didn’t have any water running from sunrise until about 1 pm, I managed to enjoy my Sunday. I was thirsty and had to postpone my dirty laundry for the majority of the day, thus causing me to not have enough daylight hours for my clothes to dry outside. My clothes stayed wet for another 3 days, but somehow I love Sundays, this one included. It is also the only day of the week that I can totally disconnect from everyone here and have a little me time. Karen also came over and played the ukulele outside while I did house work, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I find so much comfort and complacency in my homestay family and the house here that it really is a treat to spend time with them here and observe and learn about their lifestyle and all.
We went to Gaborone on Monday to do our immigration paperwork, but the workers are on strike for reasons of protesting their wages. We are going to have to make a return visit to get this done, but for now it is postponed indefinitely.

I also wanted to include a little information on things I’ve noted throughout the information sessions we have every afternoon. Maybe they will provide a little insight into the customs and culture here.
In learning about Peace Corps in Botswana, we were shown a video that commented on how the first PC volunteers were notorious for being part of the hippie movement. In interviewing several Batswana, they commented on the unruly hair and the tattered blue jean shorts that they wore. Mind you, Botswana is a country that takes their level of dress seriously and it is a sign of respect both for yourself and for your company to dress appropriately. They were commenting that these Americans were coming in to help with economic development with long hair and unkempt clothing. I just thought it was funny, particularly that during our welcoming ceremony in Kanye, one of the local officials also commented on the hippies. Although he had suggested a fondness for their style and let’s say, charisma. Another high-ranking woman that spoke mentioned how she learned English in grade school from a particular PCV and noted his name and all! He apparently moved to Botswana in the 60s after his service and remained there until he died just a few years ago. What a story, eh!?
Once Botswana was considered to be a in relatively good economic state, Peace Corps left Botswana. A few years later the president of Botswana asked for the Peace Corps to come back to work specifically on the HIV/AIDS epidemic. While PCVs are only working with HIV/AIDS projects, these endeavors take on many connotations because of the widespread effects that HIV/AIDS has on so many facets of life. I am slowly learning my role to fulfill here as a volunteer. To be honest it seems daunting and I often wonder if I am even an adequate individual in regards to my personal knowledge and professional experience etc. to address these issues. Either way, I am excited and willing and that seems sufficient at this point in time.

I am happy to be here. I don’t believe in all that being put in the right place for a reason and having the cosmos aligned or the gods working in my favor…I’m just happy that this whole process has brought me to Botswana and put me with this family in this particular community. I know that this is only the beginning and every day will not be rainbows and honeycombs, but for now, what a great beginning!

the trek to motse lodge! this was clearly a group effort

Dear America, Roosters cockadoodledooo at ALL hours of the day.

This is a long one…
In a country where the language does not distinguish between “love” and “like” it’s easy to understand how a population of people can be so kind and hospitable as though it is a part of its national identity.
Here in the village of Kanye (just a few kilometers away from the capital, Gaborone) the people have all taken kindly to us. We are greeted with smiles…and giggles galore. We greet them in Setswana and they are so delighted and maybe just plain surprised to hear a foreigner attempt to communicate in their language. For now the Setswana ends with the typical greeting and basic inquiry about ones status. I’m slowly progressing to be able to tell people I am tired or hungry or needing to bathe, instead of just stating a scripted, “I am having a good day and I feel great!” Most everyone speaks English in addition to Setswana and if they don’t speak it publically they at least can understand it and respond in their native tongue.
Only a few days have passed and I have experienced one weekend in the village, but it seems like months have passed. Every single occurrence seems like an occasion or some large cultural experience that I take note of…so each day feels long and so eventful.
I have moved in with my host family and my new name is Peo (meaning “seed”) Sengalo (family name). I live on a compound with 3 houses. One house has a tiled roof and is home to Cecelia, the grandmother and her daughter, Phenyo (26).
In the other house, which is a traditional round one-room house, is Galaletsang (28). She has two children, Leageng (18 mo.) and Phio (7). They seem to run around and sleep in whichever house/room/bed they fall asleep in. The main house, which I assume is the original and first house built on the compound, is my home. I don’t live here alone. There is a live-in babysitter, Onkemetse (20), who stays in the room next to mine. I have a tin roof and there are some damn birds or chickens or SOMETHINGS that run and hop skip jump fight mate cluck chirp just over my head.
They do not allow me to sleep past 6:30 on ANY morning. I really have gotten used to this and don’t have to set an alarm anymore. So there’s the cool side of the pillow.

I really have gotten ahead of myself. First, let me tell you that before meeting my homestay family, I was scared to death!
A. I felt terrible from the overload of malaria medication and the series of vaccines we had been given within the first few days in Africa. Between being disoriented, dizzy, and jetlagged…my spirits were quite low.
B. All of I could think of was my terrible experience with the crotchety senoras in Spain.
We had a large matching ceremony where the families came to a facility in the village and they announced our names and respective families and met each other after a large welcome by a few select figures from the community, including our village chief! I was greeted with a great hug by Gala (the oldest sister). She has the most high-pitched chuckle/giggle and she uses it frequently when I attempt to say anything in Setswana. Before even arriving at her house I discovered that she was engaged and her fiancé was going to be driving us to her home. She immediately told me that I must come to the wedding on September 30. I was beyond flattered by such an immediate invitation.
Gala works at a hotel type facility that I haven’t totally figured out, but she occasionally brought me bottled water from her work when I was still adjusting to the taste of the water from the tap. & her fiancé is a policeman!
Cecelia works at the post office and she spends a lot of hours on her feet it seems. When she gets off work in the afternoon my job is to make tea for her. Silver platter included with the cutest little teapot you’ve ever seen. I made peanut butter cookies the other day and included them on the platter with her tea. Of course, she called them tea biscuits…there’s your post-colonial Africa for the day. I’m obsessed with the sunset here and we have the most perfect view from the back steps of the house. All of my family has figured out it is my favorite time of day and oftentimes Cecelia sips her tea with me at sunset. Today I took a much needed nap and missed the sunset for the first time, but when I woke up all my sisters commented that I had missed it this evening. It was just so kind of them to take note of that. The other day, I made my blueberry tea (Christine) and they LOVED it. I guess it’s a nice treat to your taste buds after years of black tea.
Phenyo works at Choppies, the local grocery store. Sometimes I go in there after my classes are done at about 4 pm and buy a soda and say hello. She was on sick leave this past weekend, but she walked with me to her work all dressed up so that she could introduce me to her co-workers…a few of which are cousins. I asked her if it was a problem that she was on “sick leave” and she seemed in perfect health to visit her place of work…she didn’t seem phased by the question so I didn’t pursue it. When people ask me my name there I tell them I’m Peo Sengalo, Phenyo’s sister. They get a HUGE kick out of that and I’m all the merrier to entertain and put a smile on someone’s face. Sometimes the workers I meet ask me if I remember their name the next day and honestly, I couldn’t pronounce it if they told it to me and little do they know that I can’t remember American names, much less Setswana names!!! This is something that I really must work on…it’s a good life skill…a universal life skill!
Oh yeah, so this weekend…I noted in my journal that by 8:45 am I had hand washed all of my laundry, started a fire and heated my bath water, bathed, and dressed to go out the door for some village exploration. I must say that I couldn’t have done it alone…I had the help of my friendly birds atop my roof to wake me up. Hand washing laundry: jeans, bed sheets, and towels will be my demise, but what a feeling of accomplishment after the fact! I also use so much less water that I did in the states. I heat about a ½ gallon of water and then mix it with the cold running water until I have a reasonable puddle to sit in. I then squat, lay, dip… whatever to get my hair wet and wash my hair and body. I’m getting better at this. Also, I realize that I have neglected my feet in the shower for too long. It’s really nice showing my feet some extra love with some soap and a rag. Also, I bought a rag at the Choppies that is blue and the dye CONTINUES to come out in my water. Inevitably after each bath I have blue water. Also, I bath in an outhouse. It is separated from the neighboring toilet room. Also, there is the old school pit latrine that is still standing next to the outhouse. I don’t feel that adventurous to use it when a running toilet is available, but it is nice to see how it was in the old days, ya know.
Also, the TV and radio are frequently used. They both play very loudly everyday. My first day here the babysitter put on her FAVORITE Celine Dion CD and I washed dishes to My Heart Will Go On…can you imagine?! Otherwise the radio plays Rihanna, The Temptations, and Adele…in that order. There is a lot of American hip hop, which I don’t mind, but sometimes I forget I’m in Africa when I’m having a dance party with my family in the living room listening to Jay Z. Oh yeah, we do a lot of dancing in the house and I don’t mind a bit.
We eat dinner in front of the TV and there are a couple of shows they like to watch…or really the only ones available to watch…Generations is a crappy soap that I can’t follow the characters or storyline or anything really. The language is a straaaange mix of Setswana and English, both used in the same sentence throughout the episodes. It’s weird to my ears to hear such foreign sounds and phrases intermingled with clear British English vocabulary. Oftentimes I find that I unconsciously decide to go bath or study Setswana during the show and don’t realize until they ask me if I’d like to finish the show before getting up to leave. I’m really less than interested in the TV. Oh dear lord, and there is a Botswana version of American Idol. I don’t like American Idol, and you can imagine my feelings towards Botswana Idol. Although on Sundays from 4-6 pm there is a jazz radio show that Phenyo likes to play and ohhhh puddin’ I really enjoy that.
Well I’m dragging on, but while you’re reading I’ll include more information on my life here. I have Setswana classes for about 4 hours each morning and then we have meetings in the afternoons until about 3:30/4. I try to help cook things for dinner, but oftentimes I get intimidated cooking for 6-7 people without my normal ingredients. If I could, I would sautee some squash and zucchini with some basil and oregano….and then pop some baked potatoes in the oven to eat with some greek yogurt! Oh and dessert…we don’t really do that here. We have a cup of Coca Cola for a sweet indulgence after our dinner.
I have eaten some traditional meals and I haven’t disliked any of them. It’s a lot of rice and noodles and potatoes topped with stews like onions, carrots, spinach like stuff that isn’t spinach, and green beans. There is a porridge here that tastes like oatmeal and feels like grits. I like it, but they often mix it with the milk from the cattle post that was left and out curdled. It has a tart taste that isn’t bad but you can’t let your mind KNOW that you are eating curdled milk, otherwise your throat closes up. Just today I had the traditional worm that lives on trees here and you can buy them by the bag full at take-aways (Botswana fast food). It tasted like salty wood chips. If I needed protein and that’s all I had I would eat it, but I doubt that I’ll need to satiate a craving for those things anytime soon. In my backyard, we have a tree that grows oranges that have an intense lemony-citrusy quality that feels like some hybrid of citrus fruits. I like to bring them for lunch and they’re delicious!
I’m sorry for so many details, but it all seemed relevant to give an elaborate account of my last few days in Botswana. I’m feeling good and happy to be here. The adjustment is slow and time passes as such a strange pace. I haven’t quite grasped the thought of me having begun my Peace Corps experience. For some reason it doesn’t feel like it’s really begun, but I don’t know what would really qualify the beginning. I miss the company of good friends and loving family, but I’m slowly (or maybe quickly?) finding a home here.
Until next time, sala sentle (remain well)!

Damn John Denver

Damn John Denver
All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go…this song played on repeat in my head and the more it looped, the more cliché it became, but pathetically applicable to my venture. The 15 hour flight went by surprisingly fast because I was just utterly exhausted in transit. The entirety of the trip lasted something like 38 hours. I couldn’t decide if I was supposed to be eating breakfast, lunch, or dinner at any point during the trip. I was so nervous about moving my luggage and tolerating the flight and everything else about my arrival into Botswana. HOWEVER, I have arrived in Gaborone, Botswana safely and with all of my luggage! The luggage arrived a day late, but it doesn’t matter anymore…as with most of my worries thus far. They all become fleeting and petty thoughts.
We are staying in a lavish lodge for the next 3 days. I’m assuming it’s for accommodating purposes as we overcome jetlag. Until this trip I wasn’t totally convinced the jetlag was real. Upon arrival we had time allotted to take a nap, and you better believe I capitalized on this. My first beautiful sleep in Botswana began with a new kind of thunderstorm. The clouds are different here and the thunder is so much more aggressive as though there are no large obstacles to lessen the radiating noise of thunder. Instead, it literally rolls from afar and rumbles to a crackle right outside your window. I fell asleep with the rain beginning to fall on the thatched roof and the clean air breeze moving through my room. I woke up to a cooled temperature and the rain smell that Glade will never be able to capture in a plug-in.
We began our Setswana classes today and I really enjoyed it. I continually interject small Spanish phrases like “bueno!” or “sí” for no apparent reason. The locals around the lodge are eager to smile at us and greet us in Setswana, and patiently correct our meager attempts at conversation. I will say there is a certain level of humility necessary in learning a language and I am so appreciative to have experienced this while learning Spanish. I will also say that the Batswana are much more sympathetic to a non-native speaker than the Spanish…making me all the more eager to interact here.
We received our yellow fever vaccine in Philadelphia just a couple of days ago (it feels like years ago!). In the next couple of days we will get a series of different vaccines/pills including Hepatitis A & B, meningitis, typhoid, and rabies. I also began my malaria medication today. Rumor has it that these pills cause hallucinations and crazy dreams. I, for one, am excited to see how those dreams turn out & I have a moleskin specifically allotted for dreams! If the side effects are too much, I am able to change, so no worries…I’ll feel that one out. I’d like to think I’m medically covered on all fronts!
In a couple of days I will be moving into my homestay in the city of Kanye. I will live with a Batswana family for the next 2 months while we continue language classes and other information that PC has to brief us on before we begin our actual service in our assigned sites. The rundown: Kanye, Botswana for the next two months as of Thursday, April 7 doing Pre-Service Training (PST). Then, towards the end of my training, we will find out our specific placement for the following 25 months of our stay in Botswana.
Now, more than ever, I am practicing taking things one day at a time. I am much relieved to have arrived and began my adventure, but you can imagine how anxious I am to begin my work here. I just have to remind myself that this training is all part of the thrill and the process of things.
I was forewarned that the internet is a bit unreliable, but it has proven true. I will update more whenever possible. Until then…
Go, siame!