Oh my how time has passed. I look up and find myself approaching the end of a year. Some days I have a hard enough time knowing what day of the month it is and now it comes time for me to make the extra conscious effort to note the change in the year as well. Typically, I’m in a school setting and it takes me about 3 or 4 weeks to condition my brain to write 2012, and within that time I’m inevitably scratching out and erasing that lingering and stubborn 1 from 2011.
Since my last posting, World AIDS Day has come and gone, as has Christmas. I have moved into a new house that is on the opposite side of the village, just next to my office building, only to be about an hour’s walk to the post office and shops. My dog, Zeus, got out of my compound last weekend and hasn’t come back since. I ventured to the bush and saw a glimpse of the rural and beautiful greenery that “the lands” entails including ducks and standing water from the mountains. The rainy season has arrived and water comes into my kitchen with any prolonged raining… My trip to Mozambique is no longer some distant dream, but is a fast approaching reality. I’m already making my packing list to prepare myself. In addition to readjusting to a new house, I’m learning how to celebrate the holidays without the familiar routine and family members involved. Other than that, Moshupa is still just Moshupa and feels like a home if only by its familiarity.
I’ll start with World AIDS Day. I got an early morning ride to the grounds from one of the laborers operating the portable loudspeaker system. They normally use these vehicles with a speaker strapped to the top and driven through all of the wards of the town to spread news of upcoming kgotla meetings (comparable to community meetings) and the like. On this particular day, it was used to announce World AIDS Day, inviting all people around to attend, and also notifying this that His Excellency President Sir Seretse Khama would be present for the occasion. I even got to be the one announcing the occasion as we drove around. I had heads turning from the post office to the grocery store wondering what the girl was doing speaking in broken Setswana and nasally sounding English. Clearly, I got a kick out of it. Later in the day I also got to invite all the ambassadors to lunch at the council offices. I didn’t hang around for much of the ceremonial side of things, but rather helped distribute water and snacks to the ushers. I preferred it that way though. I needed to stay occupied because I wasn’t in the mood to sit around. After the formal side of the commemoration with speeches from kgosi and the President, we had some music and dance entertainment from secular and traditional groups. It seemed like a very template kind of commemorative event, but I think that really just affirmed the success of the event. All things considered, it was a great experience and day. I am, however, glad that it’s over.
Just before Christmas, we had the OVC party at the Red Cross. I got to help cook over an open fire (in the blazing sun), and help prepare dishes for the children while they played. Typically, we serve sandwiches and juice, but as a special treat we prepared samp (hominy), morogo (tough spinch cut finely and cooked in oil and spice) with carrots and tomatoes, goat, beef, and cabbage. It was supposed to last from 10 am to 1 pm, but it didn't even start until 2 p.m. That's what we mean by "Botswana time". After the ceremony the kgosi offered to drive us around for a little bit and god knows I won't resist a car ride if only for the few minutes of breezy air. I got to see a new area of Moshupa with more beautiful rocks (I've really got to find a way to spruce up my details about these rocks, but they really are effortlessly beautiful).
This same day we had some Returned Peace Corps Volunteers (RPCVs) pass through Moshupa and we had them meet at my friend, Azmat's restaurant. He prepared us a Pakistani/Indian dish with basmati rice and curried carrots and potatoes! One of the RPCVs served in Botswana and another in Rwanda in the late 80s, early 90s. They came to visit their friend, working for USAID in Pretoria, South Africa and ventured around to see what's happening in Botswana. They shared some photos and it was interesting to see that the school uniforms and buildings had not changed one bit. Besides the weathered and 90's film exposure of the photo, you really couldn't tell that the photo was from 20 years ago! It was a refreshing afternoon of visiting and just a cool opportunity to share in an experience that traverses decades and generations. In this way, I really wonder if this "experience" will ever really end. I hope not.
Christmas was different, but in such a good way. It was a great opportunity to visit with other volunteers and share our respective families’ traditions, while creating a few of our own. Most Batswana families migrate to the cattle posts for the Christmas celebration. They have choirs that convene and travel through the lands singing and performing as they go. I stayed with a few other volunteers in the “village proper” or just the more residential areas of Botswana. There was no indication that it was Christmas time in this setting. You pass by the houses and there are men siting out under the tree drinking beers and Chibuku. There’s a woman washing clothes or sitting beside the house, chasing the shade as it wraps around the house away from the sun. Nothing about any of these activities distinguishes Christmas from any other Sunday. We did exchange gifts and I ended up receiving a camping spfork, the multipurpose utensil that conveniently includes a knife-edge as well. Hopefully, I won’t look like the Joker after using it. I also got a block of REAL parmesan cheese! My waistline was screaming, “NOOOOOO!” but my eyes and mouth were saying, “HELL YES! IT’S ABOUT TIME!” You can get things of this nature, you know like REAL cheeses in the capital city. I have processed things comparable to Velveeta in my village, but never buy it, and on occasion they have some mozzarella, which I also never seem to be able to justify purchasing. Needless to say, eating the parmesan became a communal effort. I also gave a few haircuts to my friends in need of a trim, whilst listening to some new music sent from my boy ☺ back home. My favorite part about this Christmas was waking up each morning and going into the only room where no one was sleeping: the kitchen. There we would sit with the doors open, sipping on some coffee (compliments of friends from the States) just visiting, catching up on things, and laughing all the while. The kitchen also became an experimental playground with all kinds of goodies and ingredients and snacks and treats INCLUSIVE OF A RED VELVET CAKE WITH CREAM CHEESE ICING. We kept the doors and windows open almost all weekend to enjoy the nice breeze and even a couple summertime rain showers. (Does this sound weird to you winter wonderland folk in the Northern hemisphere?) We also took a small hike in the village up to a sweet lookout spot. It’s so nice visiting with volunteers at this point in our service. We let off some steam sometimes (ok a lot of times), but there are also these really great opportunities for conversations that don’t even pertain to life in Botswana. We are all (going out on a limb to assume we are all on the same page butttttt) at peace enough with our lives and routine here that it’s not such a thought consuming process to live here. In this peace, we get occasions like Christmas to reflect on the family and friends we left in the States and share our personal histories and traditions with these new friends. Yes, this is our life in the day to day, but this Christmas was distinguishable from any other Sunday if only by a good visit and a delicious cake. We even succeeded in creating new traditions like hanging Smartwool socks for stockings and eating Oreos as appetizers.
Another volunteer asked me the other day what I was most glad to have packed before coming here. I immediately said my French press. Not that I couldn’t get a French press here, but I couldn’t find a stainless steel one, the perfect size for one, and there is something about the gratification in being “prepared” for something. Like OH, I knew I would appreciate taking the time to accommodate for my addiction to coffee. The only problem is the coffee supply and access to ground coffee. My friends and family have done a SUPERB job in supplying me with an adequate amount of coffee to accommodate me and treat my occasional visitor. My office thinks I’m crazy for drinking it black. Here, teatime means a minimum of 5 scoops of sugar with 1 part milk, 1 part coffee/tea. I have since discovered those Starbucks instant coffee packets and the flavored ones too. WOW those things are good! Comparable to dessert coffee and equally as tasty over ice. I am slowly but surely introducing COLD coffee and tea drinks to my office. They’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.
We also had the opportunity to celebrate Hanukkah with Tija. She did a STELLAR job of preparing foods, decorating with dreidels, and posting the traditional Hebrew prayers, even facilitating the prayer for those celebrating their first Hanukkah (me included). Typically, I'm not one for such ceremony and tradition, but I really did enjoy the occasion and brief insight into Judaism. There is also something so appealing about such longstanding traditions and religious practices and I'm curious as to how and why those particular practices have survived so long. Being raised in a Christian home, it's always interesting to see different annual traditions.
Ahhh, yes, my new house in Moshupa. It’s new to me and new to the neighborhood. The bathtub fits me perfectly and the sink isn’t clogged. Still no shower, but having water and electricity really suffice. I don’t have any furniture yet besides a bed and two plastic lawn chairs my friend lent to me. That will change soon, well eventually. BUT I won’t hold my breath is what I’m saying. I was sad to abandon my garden at the old place, and I don’t have the same yard space to have a garden here. So I’m considering just doing some potted herbs for decorative aesthetics and the occasional culinary accents.
Besides being in a new home, barren and blah, Zeus is gone. It’s been almost a week now. He has gotten out of the compound on several occasions, but always comes back around feeding time. People have warned me of this, saying that others will steal him and take him to the lands, particularly because he is so well behaved. I didn’t take much mind, thinking surely no one would do that. Whether he ran away, was hit by a car, or stolen, I don’t know. He’s gone. I fed the last bit of his food to my neighbor’s puppy (which I’m considering taking under my wing). I just miss my afternoons and early mornings sitting on the porch drinking coffee and him tucked under the coffee table while I read on the couch. I don’t know that I really want the responsibility and worry of another dog. I just liked him so much and I loved that I could walk with him places and he stayed with me or if he left, he always came back. I don’t know if you know my history, but typically the dogs in my life are like one hit wonders and when they turn into the yuppy and needy creatures that don’t do what I want, I lose interest. Zeus had it all, man! And with a name life Zeus, it’s not like I can just find a Hercules to replace him.
Before I arrived in Moshupa I googled it to see what I could find. To begin my search, I found myself on the Wikipedia page. Yes, Moshupa has its own Wikipedia page. I remember reading that they have these “precarious rock groupings,” and the story goes that each time the chief dies one of these rocks falls. I’ve become less of an acquaintance and more of a friend with the kgosi here and took the liberty to ask him if the myth was true. He told me about when his father died some creepy things happened in a particular group of rocks just near my house. Now, it isn’t everyday that one can read something on Wikipedia and have first-hand accounts to verify that information. It felt something like the scene in the Lion King when Simba is in the fields and he is recapping his family’s history, cue African night sky and Circle of Life song. I would update things like the existence of an orphanage here, that doesn’t exist, but is actually just an OVC (Orphaned and Vulnerable Children) program at the Red Cross. However, I doubt that Moshupa gets the high numbers of page hits to even warrant an edit.
I would write on Mozambique, but I’ll elaborate on that adventure after it happens. For now, I will just celebrate the fact that the tickets are purchased, accommodations booked, and I’m set to go! Until then it’s New Years festivities. This time last year I was in Austin, TX with a few of my favorite friends, probably sipping Fireball and listening to good music. I’m not sure how this New Years will play out, but I’m preparing myself for a good bit of house music and employing some innovation for fun out in BFE!
I wish I could write more about work related things, but the truth is that everything goes on hiatus for the entire month of December. Governments offices are open, but all schools are closed for the entirety of the month, limiting my little side projects for the time being. I cannot say that I am complaining. It seems I needed a little break from my routine.
Oh and just found out my good friends Sarah Henkel and Nick Volgas are engaged! WHEW! I’m SO EXCITED TO HEAR THAT! CHEERS and CONGRATULATIONS to them!
p.s. I'll post photos when I find the golden ticket (wireless internet).
