Different experiences

This is the weekend of my 50th high school reunion. I think the plan is a party and attendance at a game - I cannot remember if it is football or baseball. Lots of memories floating around as well, I am sure.

By contrast, yesterday I went on my usual weekend trip to Jwaneng. At the bus stop I met a young woman who was carrying a baby and had a suitcase with her as well. She was a talkative young woman, and very devoted to the baby, covering her (she had pierced ears and was dressed in pink, so I assume it was a girl baby) often and talking to her. We boarded the bus and I sat near the front and the young mother went further back. About five minutes out, there was a piercing whistle from the back and voices, and the bus driver pulled to the side of the highway. The young mother came up and made to get off the bus. After some discussion with the driver and the conductor, she sat in the conductor’s seat, and the driver put the bus in reverse and backed a distance of probably 2 miles or so down the trans-Kalahari highway back to the bus stop. When oncoming traffic came in our lane he stopped and let traffic go around us. it is only a two lane highway, but vehicles go 120 km/hr on it.  At the bus stop, the young the conductor got off and the mother peered anxiously out the door.

Then she turned and started back toward her seat, and the conductor got back on with a stuffed animal (it looked like one of those with a zipper that can hold things) handed it to the mother, and we were off again.

While I am sorry to miss the reunion, because there are some people about whom I would love to hear the stories of their lives, this was an OK substitute.

Sunday Thoughts

It is Sunday morning here, and I can hear the singing from the church just down the road. No organ or other instrument, just human voices, in wonderful harmony.  In the evening, the local bar believes in electronic amplification, and it is not as pleasant.  There are no audiologists here that I can find, but soon they will be able to make a very good living because of damaged hearing.  Either that, or the sale of ear horns.

The longer I am here, the more I realize how much of human existence is the same everywhere. Senses of humor are the same.  Children who instinctively reach up for their mother’s hand, or hide behind her skirts at the approach of a stranger, are the same.  A group of teenage girls giggling is the same.  The variation in the work ethic, with some going for long hours and weekends, and others who frankly appear offended when asked to do their job, is the same.

But there are also moments, when I am in the middle of a room of people and loud conversations in Setswana, when I know that this is a special adventure, and I am fortunate to be having it.

Maggie’s party

A fellow Peace Corps volunteer named Maggie recently had her 50^th birthday and decided to throw a party. She invited all of us ‘oldies’ to help. At 10am, the children started to arrive, and by the time they had all arrived, there were more than 60 there. Maggie had borrowed chairs, and these children, between the ages of 1 and 12, all sat decorously on those chairs as they arrived. Then the inflatable jumping castle arrived, courtesy of one of Maggie’s friends in the village, and the kids started to behave more like American kids, jumping, giggling, and clowning.  We divided them into rough age groups, so that the younger ones were together, and then the older ones. Maggie had water balloons for those who weren’t jumping, and other games as well. These kids are remarkably well behaved. Can you imagine 60 American kids at your house?

She had a teen-age function after the young ones left, and then an adult party in the evening. She has my undying admiration for her organization! All went quite well until the end. Maggie had invited another young friend of hers to be a disk jockey for the teens and adults. He arrived with huge speakers and a collection of music, and also with a couple of his cousins – a common phenomenon here. At the end of the party, Maggie found her computer had been stolen. She had put it in the closet in her bedroom and kept the house locked, but had unlocked it for clean-up, after everyone except the helpers, including the disk jockey and cousins, had gone home.

On discovering the theft, she went immediately to the police department, at about 11:30pm. There she found two police officers. She told her story, and they began to fill out a report, except none of the pens lying on the desk would work. One of the police officers offered to go home for a pen, except he has no driver’s license. So Maggie’s friend, the disk jockey, drove him home in the police car. Meanwhile the other officer found a red pen and wrote Maggie’s report in English. Maggie wasn’t sure she (the officer) quite captured the facts, but the officer said it must be thus. At the end, the officer said that Maggie must return the next day because reports can’t be official if they are written in red pen – it must be blue or black. Gritting her teeth, Maggie agreed to return in the morning. She did so, found some new officers on duty, pens that worked, and so she repeated the story and the officer wrote, again in English. In the meantime, Maggie had found out that one of the cousins of the disk jockey was a known thief and on probation. She suggested that they go immediately to his house and question him. No, said the officers, the report must go to Lobatse HQ and be approved before they could do so. Maggie and I went back that evening to see what the word was from Lobatse, and of course the report had not yet been sent. Monday morning I left, but got a text message from Maggie that she was sitting in the police station alongside the suspect, who was in handcuffs. But he denied all and was released. There was never a search of his place.  Maggie has publicly offered a reward for return of the computer, but so far no luck. Theft is the most common crime in Botswana.

Even with that, it was a great party, and a great way to introduce kids here to the way Americans celebrate their birthday.

In other news, the Peace Corps held a regional meeting last weekend, and all the volunteers from this area went. I was able to meet several of the group that arrived last September, who work primarily in the schools here.  They are a very nice group of people, with a very nice mutual support feeling regardless of age. Our group doesn’t have quite that feeling of oneness, although everyone is quite nice to me. I am now the oldest in the group, because the three who were older than me have all gone home early for a variety of reasons. So perhaps age has its compensations.

It was very interesting, however, to hear the level of frustration in the following group, over logistics, lack of organization, and the pace of trying to get things done here. It is the same as we experienced, but those of us in my group looked at each other and realized that we no longer feel those frustrations. It has been said that at around 11 months of service, things being to ‘click’ and we feel different. The same frustrating things are still present, but we now seem to be able to sail through, or over, them.  So it takes about a year to become a comfortable Peace Corps volunteer, then you have one more year to really shine, and then it’s time to go home. It’s a common phenomenon all over the world, I’m told.

Dentistry in Botswana

Your teeth and gums age along with the rest of you, and before I left the States I was told by a number of dental professionals to be sure to get my teeth cleaned every three months, as I did at home. The Peace Corps pays for only one cleaning, at mid-service. So I asked the PC for the name of a reputable dentist. They gave me one in Gaborone. Things being as they are here, I did not get it arranged to see the dentist for a cleaning until last month. I went to Gaborone, and it was pouring rain. I literally waded through the parking lot to get to their office. When I asked the guard at the gate where the dental office was, she waved vaguely up the stairs. After going up and searching both upper floors I found the office on the first floor, just down from the gate guard. My appointment was for 10am, and I arrived about 9:55am. I filled out paperwork, and sat in their waiting room. I did find an interesting reference in one of the magazines, that I will describe later.

At 10:30, I was called into the treatment room. I had a quick exam, and then a cleaning, that consisted of use of the ultrasound scaler and then a polish with the gritty stuff. A rinse, and I was done. I walked back into the reception area at 10:40, and then paid 1,136 pula – which is $157 American. All for ten minutes work. I think that beats even American dental prices. I don’t plan to go back.

The reference in the waiting room. One of the African magazines at the dental office had a reference to “The Size of Africa” and a most interesting visual. Africa is as big as the United States, including Alaska, China, India, and a good chunk of Europe combined. If it ever develops the rest of the continent as thoroughly as the oil countries, it will be formidable indeed!

Ode to Bob

I learned this week with great sadness that my friend Bob Wham died shortly before the new year. I also feel very blessed to be able to call him a good friend, as I think he was one of the very special people in my life.

I first met Bob when I was newly in the Capitol. An issue arose about which I felt very strongly, and I went to talk with my Senator as an individual, not a lobbyist. There I was, quivering with earnestness, making my passionate pitch. Bob listened very intently, let me finish, and then offered, in the mildest of tones, his reasons for viewing things a little differently. At the end of the conversation, I left knowing I had not convinced him, but that I had had an intelligent conversation, and I had some additional things to think about.

When his wife Dottie was elected to the House I was privileged to work with her on several very meaty issues. Through the years, I felt adopted into the Wham family.

Just before going to graduate school, I took a week long sailing course. When I came back, I stopped in Frisco to check in, and there began another aspect of our friendship. Bob was a sailor. A very very good sailor. He and I sailed the Dillon Reservoir for several years. I bought a share of his boat, and some of my very fondest memories of him were those adventures on a cold mountain reservoir. He wore a misshapen sailors cap, and we took water to drink in an old thermos water jug that had been christened the “WHAM BOMB” as in former years I gather that it had contained liquid refreshment that was, well, not water. We talked of all manner of things during those sails. Family, great stories of early Wham years, current political issues (we still did not agree on some of them), and the wonder that is the mountains of Colorado.

My brother, who is a physics graduate, tells me that scientists have found that the universe is not, in fact a great vacuum. It is filled with energy. However one thinks of the afterlife, calling it heaven or whatever, I am certain that the sweet energy that was Bob Wham has found a very good place to be. The justice of the universe would have it no other way.

On a related note, please do not be afraid to send Peace Corps Volunteers news of home - whether good or bad. It makes us feel more connected to friends, family and community. Those connections are what make this service a privilege, rather than a burden.

New Year's in Cape Town

Cape Town does not feel like Africa - it feels like a blend of San Francisco, New Orleans (in terms of architecture), and Boston - because here is the ocean.  Very cosmopolitan, real traffic jams (no wonder - everyone drives on the wrong side of the road!) and quite wild on New Year's Eve.  We went down the coast for New Year's Eve day - to the farthest possible tip of the continent where two oceans come together, and saw a penguin colony on the way home.  Great Day.

Spent the next day in the wine country - a lot like Napa - very pretty, green, with real mountains in the background.  Definitely doesn't feel like the Africa I know.

Next to Robben Island - where Mandela spent so many years.  Probably won't be pretty there - but necessary to see.

Then out of here on the train and see the rest of South Africa out the window. It's been a great vacation, and I feel refreshed to go back to Mabs.

Happy New Year!

World AIDS Day in Tsonyane

December is the month of World AIDS Day – all over the country, and the world, there are events to recognize those who have died of this disease, and to rededicate those who remain that there is still much work to be done.

Tsonyane is a village of roughly 700 people located on the eastern edge of the Mabutsane sub-district. Travel there from Mabutsane takes about two hours, not counting the obligatory stop in Jwaneng for fuel and usually food. This village was selected by the Mabutsane District AIDS Coordinator and the place for the first, and largest, event for World AIDS Day. As with all official travel, we would go together in a government vehicle, and this one was packed with supplies for the event as well as all of our suitcases and sleeping gear.

We were slated to begin the trip at 2pm – and finally got underway at 3:30 – not too bad by African standards. Of course we had to stop in Jwaneng to buy ourselves dinner, and my companions bought raw meat and mealie meal to be cooked later. We arrived about 5:30 to 6pm, and a group of men were setting up a large tent to be used by for public education. There was a table for condom distribution, complete with anatomically correct models, in both black and white, for demonstration of the correct application. There were also people there who do house to house canvassing to do AIDS education. They also go into bars and other settings where men congregate to make their pitch.

It was a typical male activity (putting up the tent) and with about 8-10 guys working, the tent was up in about 20-25 minutes. Because the land is sandy here, the stakes are curved metal rods that are pounded deeply into the sand.  After we schmoozed for a while, we went to inspect our sleeping quarters – a room in the school building. Others were smart and brought inflatable mattresses or other padding, while I thought I could tough it out with just a sleeping bag folded double under me. A mistaken assumption, that was. I am way too old to sleep on a cement floor. Lesson learned.

By this time it was dark. The electricity in the village was out, except for the nurse’s house, which has a solar panel on it. She had the only lights visible, except for candles. I do hope there is greater acceptance of solar power here soon, as Lord knows there is plenty of sunshine, and the electrical system is not close to 100% reliable. So a group of about 5-6 of us knocked on the nurse’s door, introduced ourselves, and asked if we could use her kitchen to cook.  She had never met any of us, I think, but sure, come on in and so we did and made a mess in her kitchen. I had bought already prepared food for my dinner, so I was already fed. Everyone else waited until 10pm to eat.

The nurse is a lovely young woman (she told me she is about to turn 30 this month) who is the sole health provider in the village. She has at her disposal an ambulance to taken seriously sick patients to a bigger clinic or hospital.

In the morning, after an uncomfortable night, complete with hard floor, a door that was very noisy opening and closing, the late to bed people coming through that door around midnight or so, and the early to bed people rising very early, I went back to the nurse’s house for a bath. At roughly 5 am, she sweetly greeted me, cleaned out her bathtub, and heated water over an outdoor fire. By 6:30 I was bathed and dressed. One other of our group also availed herself of the bathtub.

The event was like a combination of a company picnic, a religious revival, and a trade show. There were greetings, long prayers, motivational speeches, children running about with treats in their mouths, mothers nursing babies, and entertainment by local people.

In addition to singing groups, there was a gentleman playing a home-made ‘guitar.’ This instrument consisted of a rusty can (large paint can size) into which a large wooden branch had been placed and then the can squashed around it. Through the branch a hole had been drilled for a peg . At the end of the peg was a wire string that also ended in the can. This single string was played with a bow consisting of a curved small branch, maybe 10 inches in length, also strung with a wire. Rubbing the two wires together and using his finger on the larger wire to regulate pitch, he made music and sang. Complete with misshapen hat, baggy trousers and a suit coat of indeterminate age, he made quite a picture. And, because I was a part of the official visiting party, I had no camera with me.  Later, he wandered the ground and seeing me, began to sing about ‘lekgoa’ – the Setswana word for white person. I don’t know what he said about me!

It was quite an event.

Making a difference

As to whether or not I am making a difference, I think the honest answer is "I think so, at least on some days." I was working with a bright young man today editing a document, and showing him how to do some things in Word and Excel.  After I showed him, he did it himself and teased me saying "Look! A transfer of skills!" Those are Peace Corps buzz words, but it was in fact true.

The closest example of where I work is Denver Health.  My office is the administrative head for 4 health clinics and 5 health posts.  Those clinics and health posts provide direct care to people here, and they are the only health resource available.  So while I don't work with patients directly, I help the people who make sure there is staff and supplies, to provide the care. 

I am taking a lot of responsibility for the data collection and analysis for our system.  Those data we not only send to national in Gabs, but review to see if we need to add or subtract services to meet the health care needs of our people.  Lots of sexually transmitted diseases?  Let's plan some talks with local leaders and public education about it.  A sudden rush of cases of little kids with diarrhea (which can be life threateneing) - let's staff up to provide care and also figure out what bug is going around so we can stop it.  It is just good basic public health - not glamorous, but people can progress when they are sick.  AIDS/HIV is a major part of the mix, but not all of it.  And most days are different from each other, so I just pitch in to help with whatever needs done.

Fuggedabout that nonsense about "not in my job description!"  That is also a model for everyone else.

My little house

I took some pictures of my house in Mabs.  It is a 2-bedroom, 1-bath.  I have electricity and indoor plumbing, as well as a metal roof--all of which translates into pretty swanky digs.  Many have thatched roofs.  Still others have no indoor plumbing (there is a well in the front yard), or electricity, or both. 

Below is 1) looking at my house from the yard, 2) my dining room, 3) my living room, and 4) looking from my house to my street.

My house is very sweet.  See for yourself!

Care Packages--part 2

It is currently the dead of Summer here, so while you may be crouching around the fireplace and putting on your wooly mittens, we are sweating and sweltering here.  Definitely not something I'm used to as the Christmas season approaches.  Yes, Botswana does celebrate Christmas--it is about 70% Christian.

So many of you have sent me lovely little goodie packages from the States, and THANK YOU!  Many others have contacted me or my daughter, wanting to join in.  I am touched by the gestures, so below is an updated list (UPDATES IN CAPS) of needs (some wants) for life in Botswana. 
It is such a treat to get boxes from home. The post office people always want to know what was in them. A man in my office came in the other day and hungrily fingered my Excel book (which I use a LOT), and I told him he could consult it at any time. But he can't have it until I go home!

1.         Paperback books. We in the Peace Corps trade them, reread them, and hug them to our chests. STILL A GOOD IDEA. I READ A LOT HERE, AND HAVING BOOKS I HAVEN'T READ ON THE SHELF IS LIKE HAVING MONEY IN THE BANK.

2.         Puzzles, games, crosswords, logic problems, and the like. No television in Peace Corps digs. YES INDEED, THESE TOO.  I HAVE SOME CROSSWORD BOOKS LEFT TO ME BY A PREVIOUS VOLUNTEER, BUT I AM ALMOST TO THE END OF THEM.

3.         Needlepoint, knitting, or crochet projects. I like crafts.  Knitting needles were a casualty of my weight restrictions in luggage.  MY NEIGHBOR VALERIE SENT ME SOME NEEDLES AND SOME YARN.  BUT I'M HAPPY TO GET MORE!

4.         DVD movies. I do have my laptop, and brought some with me, but they will only repeat so many times.  STILL NEEDED.  I HAVE RECEIVED SOME, BUT ALWAYS ENJOY THEM.  ALSO ENJOY LOOKING AT AMERICAN SCENES, AND KNOWING I WON'T ALWAYS BE LIVING IN BOTS.

5.         Electrical assistance. This country has 240 DC current. My American appliances ask for 110 AC. My single converter (as opposed to an adaptor, which simply makes the plugs fit), is doing very heavy duty.  If it gives up the ghost, I have a problem.  A COMPANY CALLED WALK ABOUT TRAVEL HAS SOME OF THESE ON THE WEB THAT LOOK LIKE THEY WOULD DO THE TRICK. MY CURRENT ADAPTER IS STILL HOLDING OUT, BUT I USE IT EVERY DAY, OFTEN FOR HOURS.  IF THEY OFFER THE SOUTH AFRICAN PLUGS, INCLUDE THEM, PLEASE.

6.         Packets of spices. Mexican, Italian, Greek/Mediterranean, American comfort food helpers. You can go to a store that sells them In bulk and buy a baggieful, or just a small can.  A CAN OF BASIL WOULD BE WONDERFUL.  OTHERWISE I SEEM TO BE FINDING STUFF HERE.  I BROGHT A BUNCH, AND MY COOKING IS GEETING MUCH MORE SIMPLE.

7.         Seasoned rice vinegar. I FOUND SOME HERE, BUT IT IS NOT THE SAME. BUT NOT A VITAL INGREDIENT.

8.         Regular old Folger's coffee - coarse ground if you can find it. I brought a small French press, but have yet to find a Bots coffee I like.  OH, COFFEE.   THE KIDS HERE LIKE TO GET STARBUCKS BUT I STILL LIKE PLAIN FOLGERS.  I AM DRINKING TEA THESE DAYS A LOT.

9.         A non electric knife sharpener.   STILL NEED THIS.

10.       A bag of real black beans. VALERIE JUST SENT ME ONE OF THESE. I CAN'T WAIT TO MAKE SOUP! IT'S A FAIRLY GOOD SIZE BAG, SO SHOULD LAST A GOOD WHILE.

11.      Real molasses.  There is none to be found in Bots. I FOUND SOME OF THIS IN NAMIBIA. IT SHOULD LAST UNTIL I COME HOME.

12.      Jelly/jam, especially raspberry or peach flavor.   MORE, PLEASE!  I'M ON THE LAST JAR THAT KARIN SENT NOW.

13.       Toiletries - for me, the one I don't want to run out of is stuff to make my hair behave. I love the Alterna product called Hemp Styling and Nutritive creme gel.  I also would appreciate really good skin moisturizers  it is incredibly dry here.   ALWAYS GOOD TO HAVE--ESPECIALLY IN THE DRY, HOT SUMMER WEATHER.

14.       A star chart for the southern hemisphere. You would not believe the night sky here.

WOULD STILL LIKE TO HAVE. I RECOGNIZE THE SOUTHERN CROSS, THE BELT OF ORIAN (IN JUNE AND JULY) BUT THE OTHERS ARE ALL STRANGE.

15.       Tools. An adjustable wrench, a small hammer,  a small flashlight with a couple of sets of batteries. I did bring my Leatherman, but it can't do everything. YUP, STILL NEED. I AM GETTING QUITE INVENTIVE, BUT THERE IS NOTHING LIKE A GOOD TOOL.

16.       A Sunday paper. VALERIE SENT ME A FEW SECTIONS OF THE DENVER PAPER. I ALWAYS LIKE TO READ AMERICAN NEWS.

17.       Yoga pants, or anything made out of stretchy jersey for comfy evenings and weekends. MOLLA SENT SOME OF THESE. I THINK I'M OK HERE.

18.       AA and AAA batteries - rechargeable if possible. I have a charger, but they deplete quickly. SPENT 50 PULA ON THE WEEKEND FOR SOME NON-RECHARGEABLE ONES, BECAUSE I USE THEM IN MY FLASHLIGHT, MY TOOTHBRUSH, AND OTHER MISCELLANY.

19.       If you want to get really exotic (and again I repeat no need to feel an obligation), one of those golf umbrellas with flaps that give way in the wind. Umbrellas are the sun shade of choice during hot

weather, and it can also be windy. At times I have felt like Mary poppins, about to fly away clinging to my umbrella. I HAVE AN UMBRELLA HERE, BUT IT STILL TAKES ME AWAY IN THE WIND. BUT THESE ARE PROBABLY EXPENSIVE.

20.       News from home - Political gossip, major happenings, current fads, anything that you think someone would find interesting. ALWAYS GOOD.

Holidays in Bots

It is finally, finally raining here - at least for a little while at a time.  The clouds help to keep it cooler, yay yay.

About 25 of us went to a place called Phikwe last weekend for Thanksgiving.  We were at the house of the main guy for Voice of America here in Bots.  Very swanky - swimming pool, hot showers, a great kitchen complete with dishwasher and washer and dryer.  I made the stuffing and everyone brought favorite Thanksgiving dishes.  There are turkeys here, I found.  We all ate until we could no longer walk, with great memories triggered by food.  We store our taste memories in a different place, I learned.  I also learned that I am glad I am in my village.  It was humid there, and hot.  Not a good combo for me.  Also one of the women had someone pry up her metal roof and then break through her ceiling to steal things.  But I feel very safe in Mabutsane, even if it is puckery dry here!

The people from Bots 9, who are one year ahead of us, tell me that after the first Christmas, things begin to speed up, everyone feels more comfortable, and that the final months go very fast.  They are all talking about end of service and what they will do after they go home.

Things do feel more comfortable here, also because I am making my house more and more 'mine' Pictures of friends and family would help that, for those reading this blog!

News from the HOTlands

Oh, my it's hot. hot. Hot. HOT. Yesterday the electricity went out (hence no electric fan working), and during the afternoon my travel clock told me it was 98 degrees (F) inside my house. The dishes in my cupboard are warm to the touch. The shampoo from the bottle on the bathtub felt warm on my hand last night. Water drinking by the gallon.

Thanks goodness for refrigeration, that stays cool even without power, at least for a while. I keep bottles of water in both the fridge and the freezer. I take the frozen ones with me during the day to have a cool drink as it melts. And this is only November - gee I can't wait for December and January. People assure me that it rains during the summer months. Much like Colorado, it is common for big thunderheads to build during the day and rain in the afternoon. We shall see just how cooling that is.

This past week I went twice to Tsonyane, a small village (population: 721)  that the District Aids Coordinator has chosen for the kick-off World AIDS Day commemoration. In Botswana, there is an expected use of official cars for all official transportation. Even with cars in the parking lot, some will moan that there is no transport available to go to Khakhea, for example, that is a 30 minute drive from Mabs.

Part of the issue, I am sure, is that there is no gasoline (called petrol, here, a la British) availbe except in Jwaneng, 120 km down the road.  And the rural roads can be tough on vehicles. What the use of the official vehiclemeans, however, is that everyone must be 'collected' from their residence or office, a stop made for petrol, and only then can the trip commence. Tsonyane is the farthest from Mabs it is possible to go and still be in the district. We traveled an hour to Jwaneng, did the obligatory fuel stop, and then 20 more minutes down the Kanye road until we turned off onto a sand road. Our driver cheerfully barreled along, around blind curves and past donkey carts, children, and livestock. It is at times like this I simply have to give my fates to God, and we made it fine.

The meeting in Tsonyane was at the kgotla. pronounced coat-la. (Gs are gutteral in Setswana, like the French R.)  kgotla is the traditional meeting place for every Botswana community.  Commonly, it is a cement slab, one full wall and three walls about 2 feet high, and a thatched or metal roof over it. Lots of space for breezes to blow through, but protected from the rain. The 'kgosi', or the village leader, sits along the full wall, along with senior men of the community. There is a special kind of chair, made from branches and a twine mesh for a seat, that only men can occupy. In front of the kgosi is a depressed area, suitable for building a fire.

The protocol on entering the khotla is to approach the kgosi to shake hands (and placing the palm of your left hand under your right forearm, as a sign of respect), and then carefully skirt around the fire area (one never gets in between the kgosi and the fire) and shake hands with the elders. You end up shaking hands with everyone, going around the room. At the kgotla, women may not wear slacks, only skirts. Sitting with crossed legs is frowned upon (although there were a couple of young women at the meeting who did so). If all the chairs for the regular folks are taken, women sit on the floor.

But the entire concept of a community center, if you will, where teaching, meeting, debating local issues, making complaints, etc. is a very healthy one, I think. So we were at the kgotla to talk about AIDS/HIV and World AIDS Day, and to encourage them to form a Village multi-sectoral AIDS Committee, or VMSAC for short. Several days later, we went back, and we had a committee with people from the the health post, nurse and lay counselor, the PTA, the business community, The Home Based Care program, the Choir, the Crime prevention program, the netball team, two football teams (soccer), traditional healers, the Ministers Fraternal group, and something called Men's Sector. So even though the trips there were a bit scary, it was a worthwhile. Now they have a structure to begin to talk about AIDS, and the avoidance thereof. We will go back again, in addition to the World AIDS Day activities, to work with the committee on things they can do to educate their community, and with a committee this size, there are not a great number of people left!.

On the trips to Tsonyane, just outside Mabs we were treated with the sight of a major ostrich standing beside the road (taller than any person except basketball players) and across the road, an ostrich family - two females and several babies. We also saw baboons munching away and not really caring about the cars whizzing by. So there is a little wildlife reasonably close by to me.

The other thing I learned is how to carry a baby Motswana style. Mom bends over at the waist, and lifts baby onto her back, usually using baby's arms. Baby is quite placid and stays where placed. then Mom grabs blanket or towel and wraps around baby and ties the top edge on her front above the breasts, and the bottom edge, holding baby's bottom, around her waist. Then she stands up and voila, a Botswana baby carrier. Babies ride quite happily in this, not appearing to feel claustrophobic. The head, by the way, is usually outside so baby can see and breathe.

Toto, we ain't in Denver anymore....

On further research, there are about 3.3 people for every goat in Africa, while there are 100 people for every goat in America. No wonder so few of us eat them. For a village like Mabutsane, in the USA there would be about 20 goats, undoubtedly on a farm somewhere. Here in Botswana, there would be about 600,000 goats (Bots is about .2% of the African population). or close to 600 for this village alone.  

Last night three donkeys got into the neighbor's yard, and decided to congregate by the fence just outside my bedroom window. Then they decided to express their desires and concerns with the community. When a donkey brays, first it sounds like an asthmatic wheeze, and you swear someone or something cannot breathe. Then the exhale is a honking sort of sound, in varying pitches. Then a cow wondered into the land just across my little street, and since the neighbors were making so much noise, the cow decided to join in. It is too warm to sleep with the windows closed, so I was treated to a concert of sorts throughout the night time hours.

Yesterday I went to Jwaneng on the bus to do some banking. On the return trip, the bus was packed, and I was one of the ones standing. A tall substantial man stood up, turned to face everyone on the bus, and began speaking (in Setswana) in ministerial tones. At first I thought he was trying to convert the bus of people.

Then, he began holding up various sizes of containers, and I realized he was selling some sort of snake oil. He continued on, in great volume, for about 1/2 hour. I heard him use the English words of 'fibroids and growths', 'brain tumors', 'low blood pressure', 'depression',and saw him motioning like he was applying it to his face and arms as a skin lotion. The busdriver and the conductor did not seem to mind, they carried on. I don't think he made any sales, though, unless he was hawking in the aisles after I got off in Mabs.

Wildlife

I am going to Namibia next week!  I am told it is beautiful there - green and lush. I hope that does not also mean mosquitos. 

Saw an ostritch today from the bus to Jwaneng. The only time I have seen one is in the Weildlife area west of town. But this guy was to the east. Boy they are a funny looking bird. but they can move when a large bus starts honking at them! The wildlife area to the west, by the way, is mostly populated with antelope-like animals - springbok and gemsbok they are called here. But someone also said there are cheetah in there, which makes sense since springbok make a nice cheetah dinner. I hope a can take a tour in there to see whats there.

Goat meat

A corss-cultural moment this week: I was talking with several of my office mates and someone mentioned goat meat.

THEM: Charlie, do you like goat meat?

ME: Well, it's an acquired taste and I am working on it.

THEM: Don't you eat goat meat in America?

ME: Not so much, no.

THEM: What do you eat?

ME: We eat beef, and chicken, and lamb, and fish.

THEM: But not goat?

ME: No, not goat.

THEM: But - what do you do with all the goats?

ME: Well, there are not that many in America.

THEM: What - not many goats?

ME: No, just a few. Some are kept for goat milk, for example, but we don't eat them.

Shaking of heads - imagine, a country without goats!  Here of course, there are many, many of them. They wander at will, foraging for anything edible. I can toss broccoli stems, nasty cabbage leaves, potato peelings, etc. over my fence after dinner and by the next morning they will be gone.]  Goat meat is a favorite here. Most of my colleagues, I think, cannot imagine a country where livestock does not wander at will.

Care Packages

My daughter tells me that people have been asking about sending care packages to me.  I must confess that this strongly independent woman would love to receive them. Just to know people are thinking of me, and to give me a surprise in my mailbox. I now realize what a long way it is back to home!

So, I have been thinking, and I hope this list will serve to give ideas for anyone who would like to send a package to any Peace Corps volunteer. While needs vary from country to country, I think this list represents the least that volunteers are going without, because Botswana is a country that is well on the way to no longer needing the Peace Corps (as witnessed by the withdrawal earlier) except for this

pesky problem called a national epidemic of HIV/AIDS.

My list, created with the help of others, my thoughtful daughter, and 4 months here in Bots:

1.        Paperback books. We in the Peace Corps trade them, reread them, and hug them to our chests.

2.        Puzzles, games, crosswords, logic problems, and the like. No television in Peace Corps digs.

3.        Needlepoint, knitting, or crochet projects. I like crafts. Knitting needles were a casualty of my weight restrictions in luggage.

4.        DVD movies. I do have my laptop, and brought some with me, but they will only repeat so many times.

5.        Electrical assistance. This country has 240 DC current. My American appliances ask for 110 AC. My single converter (as opposed to an adaptor, which simply makes the plugs fit), is doing very heavy duty.  If it gives up the ghost, I have a problem.

6.        Packets of spices. Mexican, Italian, Greek/Mediterranean, American comfort food helpers. You can go to a store that sells them in bulk and buy a baggieful, or just a small can.

7.        Seasoned rice vinegar.

8.        Regular old Folger's coffee - coarse ground if you can find it. I brought a small French press, but have yet to find a Bots coffee I like.

9.        A non electric knife sharpener.

10.      A bag of real black beans.

11.      Real molasses.  There is none to be found in Bots.

12.      Jelly/jam, especially raspberry or peach flavor.

13.      Toiletries - for me, the one I don't want to run out of is stuff to make my hair behave. I love the Alterna product called Hemp Styling and Nutritive creme gel.  I also would appreciate really good skin

moisturizers  it is incredibly dry here.

14.      A star chart for the southern hemisphere. You would not believe the night sky here.

15.      Tools. An adjustable wrench, a small hammer,  a small flashlight with a couple of sets of batteries. I did bring my Leatherman, but it can't do everything.

16.      A Sunday paper.

17.      Yoga pants, or anything made out of stretchy jersey for comfy evenings and weekends.

18.      AA and AAA batteries - rechargeable if possible. I have a charger, but they deplete quickly.

19.      If you want to get really exotic (and again I repeat no need to feel an obligation), one of those golf umbrellas with flaps that give way in the wind. Umbrellas are the sun shade of choice during hot

weather, and it can also be windy. At times I have felt like Mary Poppins, about to fly away clinging to my umbrella.

20.      News from home - Political gossip, major happenings, current fads, anything that you think someone would find interesting.

More fun on public transportation

There was the most incredible moon last night - full, and a beautiful coral color as it rose. I tried for a picture but I needed a tripod, so it doesn't capture it. But it would have been postcard quality if I could!

A small adventure over the weekend. I went to Jwaneng to shop, went to the bank and the ATM was broken, so had to wait inside in line. It took a while, and I missed my favorite bus but there were to be two more, so I didn't worry. Except - no buses came. none going west. I had a backpack and a tote bag full of groceries, sitting at the bus rank. My fellow travelers decided to walk to the highway and hitch, but I am too old to walk all that way with two heavy bags. I called the Peace Corps volunteer in Jwaneng and asked to stay over, except she wasn't in Jwaneng, she was teaching some classes with another PCV in eastern Botswana. But she called one of the staff members in Jwaneng, who offered to let me stay. She turned out to be a lovely person, very interested in research, and even let me share her double bed instead of sleeping on the loveseat in the living room. Now that is hospitality. so the next morning I took a cab back to the bus rank and caught the 8am bus back to Mabs.  So my record of never being forced to sleep on a park bench remains intact.

Very nice people here in Bots!

Daily Life in Mabs

There is no public transportation here in the village of Mabutsane, but it only takes about 30 minutes max to walk from one end to the other, so I walk. It's 20 minutes to my office, 30 minutes to the District Aids Coordinator's office, about 10 minutes to the shop or the post office. It's about 30 minutes out to the highway, which is where I catch the bus to Jwaneng. Jwaneng takes about an hour on the bus, and the distances here are in km, so I am not sure of the distance.

Take a look at Mabutsane on Google Earth - it's flat, sandy, with some vegetation. You don't want a lot of vegetation, especially in your yard, because it invites all sorts of undesirable creatures to live there, and then visit you indoors. ThePeace Corps pays me a stipend; I do not pay rent, and am reimbursed for electricity. I can live modestly but comfortably.

Recently I was sitting and reading when I heard a funny thump. Then again. Coming from the kitchen. Thump. Sounds sort of metalic. Thump. So I go into the kitchen and turn on the light, and find two lizard looking creatures, about 5 inches long each, in my metal kitchen sink. I don't know if they were fighting, playing, or making baby lizards, but they were jumping and then landing in the sink. They beat feet when the light went on, and I have no idea how they got in. But they eat bugs, don't bite human, and are sort of cute. So they can stay, unless they were making baby lizards - I don't need a family indoors. Maybe I will give them names - Ben and Jerry? I miss having a pet.

Life here is quiet. I go to work at the District Health Management Team at 7:30am on weekday mornings, come home for lunch, sometimes go back to the office and sometimes go visitng in the community after lunch. I have made a few friends - a South African widow with two young children, and her brother in law. A woman who works in the building where the AIDS Coordinator is (I wandered in by mistake) whose name is Charlotte, too. My landlord and his family. The people at the office. The women at the post office.  Main street is a dirt road, with a paved area that comes from the main highway and then goes to the government offices. I have no street address, nor does anyone here.

On Saturday I catch the 8:30am bus (that comes anywhere between 8:30 and 9:15) to Jwaneng, shop for groceries and any other miscellaneous things I need, usually catch an afternoon bus back. So Saturday grocery shopping is sort of an all day affair. Sundays are laundry by hand (I'm getting pretty good at it), hang them out, cook something in a big pot for lunches during the week. Leisure time is reading and watching my American movies. Not very exciting, but the work helps these overworked and stressed people, who are very nice.

As I walked down my dirt road yesterday I realized that this really doesn't feel all that different from home. Yes, the land is different, and most of the people are a different color, but the people want what everyone wants - a productive job, happy and healthy children, time with family, a little fun. Some people are quiet, some are loud. Some are shy, others take over the room when they enter. There are the same social problems as at home - some drink way too much, some don't take good care of themselves or their families, a few won't work, other can't find jobs. There are very few industries in Mabs, just a few shops, a fairly large government presence because this is a district office, and livestock ranching. The unemployment rate in this district exceeds 50%. Visiting the post office right after the 1st of the month you see many people with their welfare books needing to check in and get their monthly allotment.  It's very clear why many of them are on public assistance. Old, disabled, clearly not able to cope with the world. But there is also a lack of jobs here. The land won't support more livestock. and water is in short supply, so bringing in any sort of significant industry must be very carefully done.

Now I must help the Matron (who hates that title - But Principle Nursing Officer is a mouthful) create some lists and other information for the Ministry of Health. They are amazed at how fast I can type. Someone needs to add typing classes to the high school curriculum.

Went to Kokong, a village west of Mabs, for a day of traditional Setswana food.  I think the nutrition specialists set it up as an education session on balanced diets and such.  I wore my traditional Botswana skirt.  It was fun - women making food in the old fashioned way, sifting grain through baskets, pounding sorghum with logs, and then pausing in their work to answer their cell phones. Botswana food is pretty bland and heavy on starch, but then that is all that they had here for centuries. I wonder of olive trees would grow here? I am trying to think of things that grow in similar climates in other parts of the world, and that have more spice in them!

My office is keeping me busy - they like having a volunteer and so I feel very useful. This is a good thing. I have to learn more Setswana, though, because they leave me behind at the most awkward times. It's hard to hear when they talk so fast, and words run into each other.

More travel plans: Namibia for Okotoberfest (they have a large German population), and Cape Town for New Year's.  I would like to see the Mandela prison, and the place where the Atlantic meets the Indian Ocean. Then I will be as far south in Africa as it is possible to go. There are wineries there, too....

Goat meat

The other day the District Health Management Team (the equivalent of a state health department) had a large all day training meeting. As I arrived that morning, there was a goat tied up to an old dead tree in the parking lot. He definitely had a resigned look on his face. I went inside and inquired for the reason our parking lot now had livestock in it. I was told that the goat was to be dinner for the meeting participants. The plan was to slaughter him (or her) in the field beside the building, skin him and then roast him for the dinner. By lunch time he was still alive, though looking more depressed than ever. I chose to leave before the preparations begin, because the slaughtering method is not exactly humane, and I have watched enough living creatures die to last me a lifetime.

Goat meat is eaten quite frequently here. It has a distinctive taste which some people love. It looks a lot like beef, with small bones in it. It may be an acquired taste, which I have not yet acquired. Plus I can't forget the look in their eyes. I am a city child.