When I'm not at easy access to my journal, I write down small thoughts in a list in my phone. If I actually used my twitter account for things like this, I think they could be there instead.
My 'me made me hang my clothes up outside after I had hung them up in a clothesline in my room. Several hours later, after the sun has gone down, when everything is still very wet, she makes me hang it up back in my room for fear of "criminals." Sheesh.
Nothing I write in my Sesotho notebook or mini notebook is sacred. My 'me wants to read every word on every page.
It's hard to sleep in much past 5:30 when there's a singing/yelling three year old on the other side of your thin wall.
Papa john's stuffed crust: Here that would mean that it would probably be stuffed with papa
We're going to model schools? Like ideal schools, or toy schools? What is this, a school for ants? It needs to be at least three times bigger!
Take two deep breaths: in through your nose, out through your mind.
Stop worrying. It's like a rocking chair- it gives you something to do, but you're not going anywhere.
You could hide a dead body in your keyhole garden. The bones at the bottom would disguise it nicely.
I learned that the little thatched shelter looking thing in my yard is for growing mushrooms.
My 'me says that now that I have cut my hair, I am a mosotho and that I need to learn to speak Sesotho only.
I woke up this morning to what I'm sure must have been a pterodactyl.
If I rolled my eyes any harder, they'd pop out of my head.
-Lee, re: the readiness to serve test
Sandal camp: Not as difficult as boot camp, but not as pansy as slipper camp.
My 'me wants (jokingly? Who knows.) Maseiso (my three-year-old host sister) to marry my brother. I told her they are 24 years apart. She didn't seem to see this as a problem.
The bo'me (women) are obsessed with gossiping about me. One day it's that I walked somewhere barefoot, the next day it's speculating why I do so many handstands, the next day it's asking me if someone came to my house and I didn't answer because I wasn't there (yeah I have no idea...because I wasn't there...)
After having my principal's car's gear shift get stuck in park in mohale's hoek, I googled a solution and bam the car was up and running.
The road to Ha Makoae (my permanent site) sucks, but the views of the mountains along the way almost make up for it.
We were going to go to my principa'ls house near Moyeni, but she decided she needed to stop and get her hair did before she got home. So much fake hair in this tiny salon shack. Maybe I need to get a purple weave...
Speaking Sesotho has just earned me a jar of peaches from my principal's mom. Score!
No shave November? Oh I thought you said no bathe November. Either way, I'm doing neither.
Tan line or dirt line? #Lesothoproblems
"Humped zebra crossing" = speed bumps
This morning I had ants in my pants. No literally, there were ants crawling all up in my pants.
"Passion? I'm passionate about peanut butter. And not doing work." -Lee
Write something that you wish Americans knew about your country of service. "That it exists?"
"Dude how do you know so much about rain?" "Well, it is one third of my host country's motto, so..."
"So what's your main workout?" "Carrying water. My traps are insane! I take off my shirt and they're like BOOM. I'm not gonna lie."
Re: libraries- they are barely used because they want to keep the books looking nice. In general, Basotho like keeping up appearances, and they like being clean, but the functionality is not there. Like with the herd boys wearing thick blankets in the summer to keep them clean from the dirty livestock, but they're profusely sweating in the taxi
Ppl don't want to open the windows on taxis bc they will recognize how fast they are going
Thanksgiving rap lyrics:
Thanksgiving? Thanksgiving.
THANKSGIVING THANKSGIVING THANKSGIVING!
It's Thanksgiving. We're giving thanks.
It's as American as frat bro tanks.
We're about to move up in the culinary ranks.
Vanquishing our papa and moroho angst.
Turkey and stuffing, cranberry sauce.
We're chillin like a villain at the house of the boss.
Internet cruisin, nobody's boozin, but that ain't no loss.
Cuz In the back yard is a frisbee we will toss.
Rea leboha this is what we're thankful for.
30 great friends and a dope new pink store.
Basotho who love us. We couldn't ask for more.
Our new family, let's be honest, is the Peace Corps.
Even though we may not sing like bo'me we can holla
At the PCT, PCV, APCD, LCF, everyone's a balla.
We're here for two more years, but for now we'll say sala
Hantle. Let's eat. Khotso pula nala!
Today my friend in the US apologized for his lagging text response time. Hah. I waited three hours for a taxi to go back to my village. Time isn't a thing here. Don't worry about it, man.
Text: "I expect you to be in the best shape of your life when you get back. Don't fail me. Lesnewyou."
The forecast calls for a week of thunderstorms. What that actually translates to? A week of no sleep and mud everywhere.
It's amazing what living by the sun can do to your sleep pattern. Forget sleeping pills and meditation. Having no electricity or time-sucking devices puts you right to sleep at dark.
It doesn't matter if my red/brown backpack gets dirty bc it's the same color as the red/brown dirt.
Hillary and I were arguing about whose family this little girl belonged to because she ate dinner at both of our houses. The kids just belong to everyone. They are called ausi and abuti (sister and brother) by everyone and are treated as such.
Miners get black lung, ymnasts get white lung, and lowland Basotho in the spring get red lung from the dust swirling everywhere.
Shut up, roosters. It is 1am. That is a full moon, not the sun.
I'm having a problem coming from Moroccan Arabic as my last language because "ah" means yes in Moroccan but no in Sesotho. I just have to pretend that I'm Fonzie because "ey" means yes here.
The whole country had a sweet secret handshake.
Earplugs are clutch for the dumb loud animals.
I got proposed to this morning over breakfast. Awkward.
"Koko" = knock knock
Hail on a tin roof is like being bombarded by bullets.
My 'me is disappointed when I don't finish the ten pounds of food he gives me each meal. She says that she wants me to become very fat.
I climbed a mountain! But there was a paved road up there. Excitement quickly turned to disappointment.
I have had bread with each meal today. I guess that's what happens when you don't have a fridge.
My 'me was very confused when the menu said tuna because she had never made it before. I told her that I would take care of it and make tuna salad. She was rather troubled by the fact that you can make it kind of however you want.
A fart is a global hilarity.
New knowledge: I'm allergic to the aloe plants here.
The little girls wanted me to play skippy (a game they play jumping over a string) today, but I was too tired and they were sad. I have established myself as the go-to playmate. Also for handstands. Handstands any time, any place.
I was supposed to make tuna salad today for dinner, but I guess I went in too late for dinner and I had warm milk and papa instead. Boo.
Lesotho should adopt the afternoon siesta. But I guess you can't just waste daylight like that.
Even pretending to pick up a rock will make a mean dog run away.
"In this country, we still have something called empathy."
This is starting to turn into Morocco: khubz and carbs bzeeeefffff. Bohobe and papa (bread and maize meal mash) in the morning, bohobe and papa in the evening, bohobe and papa at supper time.
"What challenges are we going to face in terms of STIs?" "We could potentially catch one."
..."gotta catch em all!"
Donkeys: nature's wheezing foghorn.
The fact that everyone knows how to spell in Roman letters and count in English is going to make my life so much easier here.
PCPT: Peace Corps personal trainer. Because in Peace Corps, everything needs an acronym. Everything.
You're misinterpreting your legs hurting as you climb. It's actually a romance between your legs and the mountain. -Jeff
English phrases that I'm pretty sure every Basotho learned wrong:
"too much" to mean "a lot"- I like chili spice too much.
"Again" to mean "what else?"- you saw the caves and the mountains. And again?
It doesn't matter if my red/brown backpack gets dirty bc it's the same color as the red/brown dirt.
Hillary and I were arguing about whose family this little girl belonged to because she ate dinner at both of our houses. The kids just belong to everyone. They are called ausi and abuti (sister and brother) by everyone and are treated as such.
Miners get black lung, ymnasts get white lung, and lowland Basotho in the spring get red lung from the dust swirling everywhere.
Shut up, roosters. It is 1am. That is a full moon, not the sun.
I'm having a problem coming from Moroccan Arabic as my last language because "ah" means yes in Moroccan but no in Sesotho. I just have to pretend that I'm Fonzie because "ey" means yes here.
The whole country had a sweet secret handshake.
Earplugs are clutch for the dumb loud animals.
I got proposed to this morning over breakfast. Awkward.
"Koko" = knock knock
Hail on a tin roof is like being bombarded by bullets.
My 'me is disappointed when I don't finish the ten pounds of food he gives me each meal. She says that she wants me to become very fat.
I climbed a mountain! But there was a paved road up there. Excitement quickly turned to disappointment.
I have had bread with each meal today. I guess that's what happens when you don't have a fridge.
My 'me was very confused when the menu said tuna because she had never made it before. I told her that I would take care of it and make tuna salad. She was rather troubled by the fact that you can make it kind of however you want.
A fart is a global hilarity.
New knowledge: I'm allergic to the aloe plants here.
The little girls wanted me to play skippy (a game they play jumping over a string) today, but I was too tired and they were sad. I have established myself as the go-to playmate. Also for handstands. Handstands any time, any place.
I was supposed to make tuna salad today for dinner, but I guess I went in too late for dinner and I had warm milk and papa instead. Boo.
Lesotho should adopt the afternoon siesta. But I guess you can't just waste daylight like that.
Even pretending to pick up a rock will make a mean dog run away.
"In this country, we still have something called empathy."
This is starting to turn into Morocco: khubz and carbs bzeeeefffff. Bohobe and papa (bread and maize meal mash) in the morning, bohobe and papa in the evening, bohobe and papa at supper time.
"What challenges are we going to face in terms of STIs?" "We could potentially catch one."
..."gotta catch em all!"
Donkeys: nature's wheezing foghorn.
The fact that everyone knows how to spell in Roman letters and count in English is going to make my life so much easier here.
PCPT: Peace Corps personal trainer. Because in Peace Corps, everything needs an acronym. Everything.
You're misinterpreting your legs hurting as you climb. It's actually a romance between your legs and the mountain. -Jeff
English phrases that I'm pretty sure every Basotho learned wrong:
"too much" to mean "a lot"- I like chili spice too much.
"Again" to mean "what else?"- you saw the caves and the mountains. And again?
This is a result of Sesotho, where there is no word for "too much" or "what else."
My 'me made me hang my clothes up outside after I had hung them up in a clothesline in my room. Several hours later, after the sun has gone down, when everything is still very wet, she makes me hang it up back in my room for fear of "criminals." Sheesh.
Nothing I write in my Sesotho notebook or mini notebook is sacred. My 'me wants to read every word on every page.
It's hard to sleep in much past 5:30 when there's a singing/yelling three year old on the other side of your thin wall.
Papa john's stuffed crust: Here that would mean that it would probably be stuffed with papa
We're going to model schools? Like ideal schools, or toy schools? What is this, a school for ants? It needs to be at least three times bigger!
Take two deep breaths: in through your nose, out through your mind.
Stop worrying. It's like a rocking chair- it gives you something to do, but you're not going anywhere.
You could hide a dead body in your keyhole garden. The bones at the bottom would disguise it nicely.
I learned that the little thatched shelter looking thing in my yard is for growing mushrooms.
My 'me says that now that I have cut my hair, I am a mosotho and that I need to learn to speak Sesotho only.
I woke up this morning to what I'm sure must have been a pterodactyl.
If I rolled my eyes any harder, they'd pop out of my head.
-Lee, re: the readiness to serve test
Sandal camp: Not as difficult as boot camp, but not as pansy as slipper camp.
My 'me wants (jokingly? Who knows.) Maseiso (my three-year-old host sister) to marry my brother. I told her they are 24 years apart. She didn't seem to see this as a problem.
The bo'me (women) are obsessed with gossiping about me. One day it's that I walked somewhere barefoot, the next day it's speculating why I do so many handstands, the next day it's asking me if someone came to my house and I didn't answer because I wasn't there (yeah I have no idea...because I wasn't there...)
After having my principal's car's gear shift get stuck in park in mohale's hoek, I googled a solution and bam the car was up and running.
Now we are on the side of the road dropping off some random lady who got in? I'm still in the car but the other two got out before the police stop. Apparently the car isn't registered to carry more than two people in the car (bc she has temporary plates bc the car is new/she still has to pay some payments on it), so we will pick up the other two later along the way. Super sketchy. Update: we got pulled over again but not in time to drop off Bokang, and she had to get out and talk to the officer. I got out and spoke to the officer in my baby Sesotho and maybe that was enough to charm us out of trouble and let us go.
Ppl don't have enough money to lay the 1000 school fee bc they spend their money on Xmas shopping and on feasts for the boys after they finish initiation school.
Taxi names are the best. Some good ones include "red wine" and "potassium"
Taxi drivers play the twangy Basotho music so loud. It must be because they want to get their money's worth out of their really nice speakers.
Ppl don't have enough money to lay the 1000 school fee bc they spend their money on Xmas shopping and on feasts for the boys after they finish initiation school.
Taxi names are the best. Some good ones include "red wine" and "potassium"
Taxi drivers play the twangy Basotho music so loud. It must be because they want to get their money's worth out of their really nice speakers.
MTV's hit new show: pimp my rondaval
The road to Ha Makoae (my permanent site) sucks, but the views of the mountains along the way almost make up for it.
We were going to go to my principa'ls house near Moyeni, but she decided she needed to stop and get her hair did before she got home. So much fake hair in this tiny salon shack. Maybe I need to get a purple weave...
Speaking Sesotho has just earned me a jar of peaches from my principal's mom. Score!
No shave November? Oh I thought you said no bathe November. Either way, I'm doing neither.
Tan line or dirt line? #Lesothoproblems
"Humped zebra crossing" = speed bumps
This morning I had ants in my pants. No literally, there were ants crawling all up in my pants.
"Passion? I'm passionate about peanut butter. And not doing work." -Lee
Write something that you wish Americans knew about your country of service. "That it exists?"
"Dude how do you know so much about rain?" "Well, it is one third of my host country's motto, so..."
"So what's your main workout?" "Carrying water. My traps are insane! I take off my shirt and they're like BOOM. I'm not gonna lie."
Re: libraries- they are barely used because they want to keep the books looking nice. In general, Basotho like keeping up appearances, and they like being clean, but the functionality is not there. Like with the herd boys wearing thick blankets in the summer to keep them clean from the dirty livestock, but they're profusely sweating in the taxi
Ppl don't want to open the windows on taxis bc they will recognize how fast they are going
Thanksgiving rap lyrics:
Thanksgiving? Thanksgiving.
THANKSGIVING THANKSGIVING THANKSGIVING!
It's Thanksgiving. We're giving thanks.
It's as American as frat bro tanks.
We're about to move up in the culinary ranks.
Vanquishing our papa and moroho angst.
Turkey and stuffing, cranberry sauce.
We're chillin like a villain at the house of the boss.
Internet cruisin, nobody's boozin, but that ain't no loss.
Cuz In the back yard is a frisbee we will toss.
Rea leboha this is what we're thankful for.
30 great friends and a dope new pink store.
Basotho who love us. We couldn't ask for more.
Our new family, let's be honest, is the Peace Corps.
Even though we may not sing like bo'me we can holla
At the PCT, PCV, APCD, LCF, everyone's a balla.
We're here for two more years, but for now we'll say sala
Hantle. Let's eat. Khotso pula nala!
Today my friend in the US apologized for his lagging text response time. Hah. I waited three hours for a taxi to go back to my village. Time isn't a thing here. Don't worry about it, man.
Text: "I expect you to be in the best shape of your life when you get back. Don't fail me. Lesnewyou."
The forecast calls for a week of thunderstorms. What that actually translates to? A week of no sleep and mud everywhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment