80 Percent

This is a short essay by my friend and fellow Quthing PCV Colleen Thiersch, in response to a writing prompt to write about an interesting fact. It is an interesting take on a sad reality here. It contains some cuss words, so if you're sensitive to that kind of thing, toughen up and read anyway. It's important. 

80% of women in Lesotho were raped by a non-partner in their lifetime.

I unwrap this statistic as carefully as a Form A student unwrapping his first condom. With more disgust and without any of the laughs.

80%

EIGHTY per F U C K I N G cent. On the Lesotho grading scale an 80% is an A. A for rapists.

But how rare is that to get 80% of anything happening to anybody in statistics? Oh, whelp found one other: 80% of people look at their smartphones before brushing their teeth in the morning ok I know every one of you does that because when did you actually last brush your teeth.

(((There’s to be no more of that gdamn percent sign because it’s just balls and a penis that keep coming up behind these 80 percent of women)))

Of Women in Lesotho

The population of Lesotho is roughly 2 million. Estimating that half of the population is women, 800,000 of the 1 million Basotho women have been raped. And that’s all I have to say about women here. Look how this statistic is written. In passive voice with women as the subject. As with any crime, the subject, the one in the spotlight, must be the perpetrator. The rapists. Men. It can’t be that there are a few rapists roaming the country raping 800,000 women. There must be a terrifyingly high number of men who rape women.

Were Raped

Everyone and their nkhono [grandmother] knows that Lesotho is ranked second for HIV/AIDS prevalence, but that Lesotho is ranked number one in rape incidents is mentioned by no organization attempting to help this country. But rape is also an infectious disease. A cultural disease. Transmitted father to son. Peer to peer. HIV/AIDS is a very scientific, clinical problem which makes it, in a way, easy – here are the modes of transmission, here are the ways to stop the transmission. Find a stock photo of people in lab coats looking at test tubes or a frowning, malnourished child and throw a statistic about the disease on there – the donations come pouring. When you turn to rape, there’s nothing easy. There’s no one in a lab researching a cure for rape, no simple prevention (except maybe run/fight/scream). And as of late, rape has been brought quite uncomfortably to the fore in so many cultures. It’s an issue that’s very close to so many people that triggers feelings of shame and disgust for the prevalence of rape in their own culture. So when they come to a statistic such as this one, they move their attention to those causes more distant from themselves.

By a non-partner

In this stat we’re not even including those women raped and sexually abused by a significant other. It’s a thing, Donald Trump. This week at school, three young women reported to the school that they were pregnant. Two were expelled. The third, the school’s head prefect (#THANKSDUMBLEDORE), was not expelled because she is married. It’s her one month anniversary. “Her parents married her because they needed the lobola [bride price].” Now, I have no idea how this man treats her – I don’t mean to imply that she was raped or that she is abused by her husband – I’m just looking to point out that because she’s married there are no questions asked, she’s allowed to stay at school while pregnant, and culturally it’s Aokay.

Men buy marry women and they’re allowed to treat them however. Did she want to marry him? Did she want to become pregnant? I can’t say. She has about one month left of Form E when she’ll sit for exit exams and do damn well on them – she’s ranked third in the class. And last I spoke to her about her interests in May, she wanted to become a dentist. That is to say, she would have been one of the ones brushing her teeth before checking her smart phone.

In their lifetime

Rape has no cure. There’s no getting rid of it. A victim holds it for a lifetime.

Gone are the days when I’ll ever give a condom demonstration before a consent lesson in life skills.

Consulted my Basotho colleagues in the staff room at lunch time:

Teachers: *speaking lots of Sesotho words very quickly*

Me (casual): “Did you know 80% of women in Lesotho were raped by a non-partner in their lifetime”

Teachers:

Male Teacher: *shrugs* “Yeah, it’s like that.”

So idk maybe, this showing of silence and complacence is more of the fact that I’m sharing with you here.

Small thoughts 12

or "Adventures with Form B"

Taxis: Wild Cat, Tribal War!!!, Section Three, Back Home, Section Four, Bit By Bit

I always like how successive evolutions of my keychain make different noises. Different places and/or responsibilities, aka different keys and accompaniments, make different jangles. For example, now I have my door key, my burglar bars key, the PC office plastic magnetic key, a flash drive, and my always-trusty compass/thermometer/whistle on a big carabiner and lanyard. A little tinkley, but mostly hollow plastic noises. A small soundtrack to my life at the moment.

Psh who needs perforated toilet paper?

Brotso Pula Nala. 

Data you enjoy wasting is not data wasted.

Me, to another teacher who has a new wig/weave thing, "'Me, your hair looks nice." 

Her, sassily, "Thank you! I borrowed somebody else's hair!"

Hah I told my principal that I had to go to Mafeteng later this week to go to the Resource Volunteer (current vols who help run training for the incoming ones) meeting, and that I would have to go to TY to help with training a few times over the next few months. She was like, "Oohh they chose you to be a resource because they think that you are a good teacher and that you work very hard. Congratulations." I'm just gonna let her be impressed with me and not tell her I was not royally appointed, but signed up voluntarily. 

I was explaining why a pie chart is called a pie chart in form B, like you're looking down at an unevenly-sliced pie, and one kid blurts out, "Don't talk to us about pie!" Jeez, man, I don't have any pie either. Calm down. 

I was standing outside the classroom when the form Bs were kind of debating with the geography and science teachers, having a hard time understanding that the sun is much bigger than the earth and that the earth revolves around the sun. Yeesh. 

As the teachers walked slower than snails up the hill to the soccer field where we were having a pitso (village meeting), I wanted to tell them that my grandmother walks faster than them. Because my host grandmother was literally there walking faster than them, blasting past them as she walked up the hill. Now that's my kinda pace!

I just got a hitch out of town without trying with three very fashionable ladies. No need to fend off annoying bontate. 

Vodacom wishes me a "joyful and blessed day" for my birthday. Is this the equivalent of getting a birthday card from the dentist?

Update: the bank also just sent me a happy birthday text. Almost 2 weeks late. Thanks?

I just got in a taxi and, for whatever reason I couldn't decipher from their Sesotho, the driver tells me and this other passenger to "please hide yourself." So we laid down across the seats for like 5 minutes, then he says we can sit up again. Running from the po po?

There are 23 bodies in this 15 passenger van. At what point do we officially become a clown car?

Partially in an attempt not to eat as much junk, I told the other teachers I didn't want papa with lunch. They were quite confused when I said I was tired of papa all the time. Then they asked me what the staple food of America was. I couldn't think of a food so common you would eat it every day. Do tacos count?

Apparently earlier this year, some of the Form Bs threatened to kill one of the super mean teachers. Honestly I don't blame them. She's horrible. 

In interviews, sometimes people get asked what is the best piece of advice they've ever received. In my experience, this question is unanswerable because advice from others is basically useless, for two reasons: A) advice may only make sense in retrospect after you've figured it out for yourself. Self-discovery is almost always more effective than being taught by others. Before figuring something out on your own, you're not likely to heed their advice anyway, and B) a lot of what other people tell you is utter BS. 

After months and months, there is water back at my tap! Alhumdulilah!

There are several kids, the oldest being probably 5 years old, playing outside with, among other things, both my trash fire and a razor blade. Yet they're perfectly fine. American parenting is so paranoid.

Welp, my second greatest fear has happened. My gas ran out when I was in the middle of making cornbread. 😭

It's so cute how people in America freak out at the notion of (the PCV necessity that is) hitch hiking. 

I keep having dreams where I'm stuffing myself at an unlimited buffet of chocolate. Sigh. 

My dog's name is Bo, short for Bosiu, which means night in Sesotho. However, the form Bs, always the little troublemakers that they are, decided that the dog's English name is Senseman- pronounced like "sandsMEN!" I have no idea where this came from. Every time they run past the dog on their way to get lunch, they yell to it, "Senseman! Hey Senseman!!"

I was walking along to school this morning and paused on the side of the path to let two bo'me go by. One of them just kinda grabbed my boob and shook it around a little, saying what I imagine was something like "aw look it's so cute" in that kind of baby tone. Well hello to you too. 

Sudoku portals you into a time warp. I'm working on a puzzle and suddenly it's an hour later. How does that happen?

Yesterday I told one of the other teachers at school about the glory that is peanut butter on a banana. She looked at me like that was the grossest thing she'd ever heard of. I feel sorry for you, Basotho, ye of little food exposure.

Study up, kids!

31 August 2015: Spring at last

                Except for a few random coldish days, that fiendish beast they call winter is gone. I know that my mood has drastically improved in part because I’m not huddling in zillions of layers and feeling generally shivery and creaky. The switch was pretty fast, too. There are pink splotches of peach trees with blooms absolutely everywhere. Some of them don’t even look real. 

               Justin and Mary, the veterans of Quthing, said that this exact week last year, it was snowing. Apparently last winter wasn’t as harsh as this year’s, but it was longer. Spring also brings a bunch of little fuzz ball puppies wandering around people’s yards. Good thing I got the cutest one ;). 

               Just now when I woke up from a nap, it was even raining outside. First precipitation since it snowed when I was in Namibia. The seasons have been as follows: wet, wet and hot, annoying cold, snow, more annoying cold, then sudden warmth and wind/dust.

                To prepare for the district cultural day on Friday, the students got afternoon classes off for like two weeks. Thursday was the dress rehearsal. There were dances, a skit, storytelling, and a performance of some stringed instrument, all in various traditional outfits. The booty pop dance (called litolobonya) was done in these white plastic grass skirts with strings of bottle caps under the butt that made noise with each pop, the storytelling was done by a form C girl in an animal skin skirt, no shirt (like I said before, boobs aren’t really a big deal here), and long strands of beads criss-crossing her torso, the skit was done in seshoeshoe [South African patterned cloth] skirts and blankets, and the stringed instrument boy was wearing some kind of animal loin cloth wrap thing and an animal skin hat. They were quite good.

               Friday morning, I went with about 45 kids and most of the other teachers into Quthing town. In the taxi, I sat in the front where there was a speaker right above my head, and the house music was pounding into every organ of my body. The kids were bouncing around in the back, not content unless the music was literally all the way up. I stepped out of the taxi with my hearing dampened a bit, and it took a while for it to come back completely. We ended up at the high school in town where a few other schools had already arrived. We were ushered to a classroom to wait around. I decided that, this being a Basotho-organized event, we would probably be waiting around forever until things got started. I decided to ditch and go meet Justin and Mary in the lower part of town at the new fish and chips restaurant. I was debating whether to go back and watch the performances, but by 12:30, well after I had escaped and we had finished eating, there were still taxis full of students from other schools rolling through town, arriving that late. I decided a while ago that even though Basotho don’t think of their time as valuable, mine still is. So I thought that my watching the dress rehearsal the day before was good enough, and headed up to Mohale’s Hoek where I met up with a bunch of people.

                It’s amazing how seeing my fellow PCVs makes me feel a lot better about life. Plus my friend Lee, having previously decided to ET [early terminate] after this school year is over, has decided to stay. Part of the reasoning explained to me is that the future has definite risks, but the potential benefits are unknown and could be really good. No way to know unless you stick around. The other thing that’s making me and others feel better about PC is the arrival of the new HY [healthy youth- the other sector here besides education] volunteers, and it’s fun meeting cool, new people. This past weekend, I found a few of these newbies plus a few in my group at the hotel in Mohale’s Hoek, the district to the north. I’ve found that I rarely now go to my own camptown, favoring this one. Just to give you a little perspective for how desolate my own district is, the people who all just happened to be at the hotel sitting around this one table was more people than there are volunteers in my entire district. So yeah, it’s more fun to come up here. That afternoon, that group plus a few more went to Taylor’s [a second-year HY] house to hang out. We attempted to cook meat on his little bbq outside, and we played cards and other games we borrowed from one of the PC staff members who is obsessed with board games and the like. We all slept there at his palatial house. My house is one room. His house is at least 6, plus water, electricity, the works. So fancy.

I also decided to improve upon some other people's tattoos. Much better. 

                The next morning, my hitch buddy Lee and I easily found rides up to Mafeteng, the town to the north. We met up with Kristin and we all rode with one of her school’s teachers to Maseru. I bought a bunch of dog stuff, but I was really jonesin for a pizza. We found this place at the mall where you have to buy 2 pizzas together in the same box. It was kind of weird, but the pizzas were awesome. 

The Ed14s just had their COS (close of service) conference. They're leaving so soon! Makes me realize I've almost been here a year. 

And life goes on.

"My tiny house is tinier than your tiny house."

Original Hipsters

http://passport.peacecorps.gov/2015/09/08/16-times-peace-corps-volunteers-were-the-original-hipsters/

Small thoughts 11

Taxi roundup: Scorpion, Guitar, Black Man, Play Boy, The Legend, Cut Berry, Motivation

Now that I'm back at school after winter break, I feel like I'll take teaching over sitting in my house, but not over anything else. It seems so blah compared to the awesome vacation I just came back from. 

The ends of my sleeves will never be free from chalk. #teacherproblems

The orphanage gave me a big ol bag of potatoes before I went on vacation, which are now starting to get weird and sprouty. This combined with the fact that I didn't have time to shop in town before the taxi left means that my diet is mostly going to have to be potatoes for the foreseeable future. Game on. 

I'd like to take this opportunity to make a shout out to my new best friend and snuggle buddy during the cold winter nights: my hot water bottle. Here's to you, lil steamy.

The only time I nap is when the dog naps. 

Burning through data like my phone has a hole in its pocket...

This making up school on a Sunday thing is so pointless. Maybe a quarter of the students showed up. And we're not even having lunch!

It used to be too cold to bathe regularly. Now it's warming up but my tap is dry. Guess I'll have to keep living the dirty pirate life.

Hahah I just learned the Sesotho word for dingleberry: khoefa. Do what you will with this fun tidbit, readers. 

I'm seeing it with fellow PCVs and glimpsing it with others on facebook. What's up with boys growing hobo beards once they get out into the world after college? Their mom isn't around to tell them they look like a hobo, I guess.

Ugh is there any way I can block anything to do with Donald Trump from my Facebook/Twitter/any other source of incoming information? I mean, I know his hair is running for president and everything, but I don't need to be reminded of this every second I open the Internet. I am glad I'm out of the U.S. and the direct line of political madness fire during this whole campaigning period; It could be a lot worse. 

"If Trump gets elected president, there will be hell toupee."

I'm being offered babies I don't want. On the other side, when people see me walking with my dog, WITHOUT FAIL, they (jokingly? As a compliment?) say, "mphe eona," which means "please give it to me." I see now that babies must be in high supply and dogs in high demand. If only I could start a dog/baby stock market. Until the baby bubble bursts; then we're all screwed. 

It's amazing how a long, hot shower makes you feel like a real person again. 

On the latest episode of Adventures In Androgyny: This dude in the taxi rank was making small talk with me, then asked me if I was a "man or a girl." Being asked some version of this question a lot, I decided not to tell him and made him guess. He couldn't decide. He's probably still standing there scratching his head.

When each person greets this old guy in my taxi as "Ntate" he kinda goes off on them, like, "no, it's ntate moholo [grandfather]" and proceeds to say that he is 82 years old and deserves this more respectful title.

Why do the bo'me complain about the taxi being hot, but don't bother to take off their sweatshirts and coats?

10 months in and this marks the first time I've cooked meat in my house: a chicken liver for the Bo Bo. 

Hair progress- from 1 cm in October to 9 cm now. Ponytail, I'm coming for you.

Hah my ausi (15 years old) just came into my house to ask a homework question, and she was kind of squirming around. I asked if she was ok and she said "I am suffering from poop!"

My principal told me to ask my family for help doing my laundry. I told her I don't need help, then she hounds me some more like how often do you do your laundry? Exactly how many weeks? Where do you get your water? You know you don't even have to pay them when they help you. Zomg. Passive aggressive to the max. Fine, I'll wash my dusty pants. Jeez. But the next day they're just gonna look like this again.

No less than three students, on different occasions, reached out and touched my arm hair today. I guess they find it fascinating because no Mosotho has any.

I found a tick the size of a fat bean on my dog today. I crushed it and it exploded with blood. Gross. 

The cold weather is officially gone. Hallelujah. I can tell because there is a fly in my house. I'd much rather have flies than cold, though, so it's fine. 

I just ran for the first time since I hurt my foot many months ago. My foot held up fine, being wrapped in tape and all, but the rest of my body was like gaaahhhhh. I'm so out of shape cardio wise. 

You know it's just gonna be one of those days when it takes almost a whole box of matches to catch your trash on fire. 

I'm at the orphanage talking to the director about current events and whatnot, and she is telling me about some crazy explosion in a Chinese fireworks factory because they were unsafely storing large amounts of sodium chloride. "Are you sure it wasn't a table salt factory?" I ask. "Well it was sodium something..." she replies. 

I had so much laundry, I decided to go do it by the stream for unlimited water. It's like a ten minute walk, so not really convenient to carry the clothes, buckets, and detergent to, but my clothes are super duper clean. I didn't even get bothered by too many people. Then I decided to go full Basotho and carry back my clean clothes on my head. For the win.

This one 'me called over to me "Lumela, ausi Palesa!" (Hello, sister Palesa!). That's my oldest ausi's name, not mine. I know sometimes siblings get mixed up and called by the other name because they may look alike, but there's really no excuse here. And that's not even the first time this has happened either. 

So that's my second Form B who dropped out of school because she got married...

The hills are aliiiivvveeeee with the sight of peach blossoms

Basotho raise their hands using the forearm only, with the elbow on the table, and with their hand turned backward. 

This is the kind of thing that pisses me off the most. I don't teach until after break today, so I showed up in time to go to class. Then when I gathered my stuff to go to form B, the other teachers were like "where are you going?" From break onward, it turns out,,the kids are practicing for cultural day. I didn't even need to show up. Ach. 

The entire taxi ride from Quthing to Mohale's Hoek, I helped this 'me rack up mad points on the Vodacom trivia texts. If she wins the grand prize, I better get some of that. 

This taxi = subwoofer on wheels. 

Strangely, I have gotten quite a bit of practice hauling 2kg bags of cheetos up large hills for other people. 

Life skills today was 1/4 teaching about balanced meals, 1/4 taking suggestions of recipes the students wanted me to teach them, 1/4 helping with math homework, and 1/4 the girls attempting to braid my hair (but it wouldn't do anything because it's "too slippery"). The girl with a witch doctor father offered me M20 for a snippet. I might take her up on that.

Oh man it's gonna be really weird to go back to the U.S. and buy a thing of only a dozen eggs after here buying 2 flats (60 eggs) at a time. They're not pasteurized or anything and they don't really go bad, so I can get away with doing that.