8 October 2015: One year down!

As I sit here over my trash fire, the plastic burning a deep blue (how romantic), I am reflecting upon the past year I have spent in Lesotho. It’s really hard to believe that my time in PC is almost halfway over. I can’t say that it flew by; it really didn’t. Especially the long days of training, the month I spent doing absolutely nothing at site, the long hours at school waiting for my next class, and the cold, dark, winter afternoons I spent huddled in blankets just waiting to feel tired enough to fall asleep. In these boring moments, I have finished over 25 books and audiobooks (a lot for me. I never used to read for fun.), almost exhausted what I thought was an unexhaustable podcast library, taught myself to be a Sudoku master, attempted knitting, experimented with different recipes, played cards with my ausis, built and planted a garden, scrambled and unscrambled my Rubik’s cube, wandered around my village aimlessly, adopted a puppy, and watched more movies and entire series than I care to admit to. But, reader, don’t think that I have been bored all the time. I have actually accomplished some things. Over this past year, I have become a friendly face to the people of my village, and what I consider to be successfully integrated as a full member of this community. I have gone from knowing only how to say hello in Sesotho to being able to comprehend most (I think) of what people say to me, even if I can’t communicate back to them as fluently. I have come to know the kids of the orphanage, teaching some of them gymnastics, teaching others English, and finding comfort in the ease of a conversation in fluent English with the director over a tasty lunch. I have almost survived my first year of teaching math(s), computer, and life skills. It still amazes me how far some of my students have come. For example, my form A computer class started not even knowing how to hold a mouse or how to turn on a computer. Now, they are typing with confidence in Word, drawing pictures in Paint, and even using formulas in tables they made with Excel. I have learned how to teach on the fly, coming up with examples and problems as I need them. I have also come to realize not to stress too much about my students, realizing that the ones who want to learn will put in the effort. I have also come to see the value in occasionally getting off topic with my students, asking about their lives and entertaining all of their questions, no matter how strange they may be. When I can get away from my village, which I do every few weeks to retain my sanity, I have been able to travel near and far. I have become quite a hiker, something I never thought I’d get in to. Apart from the recent 3-day hike from my house to Semonkong, I’ve hiked all the way through one of the national parks, through one of the most remote parts of the country, all the way to the swankiest ski resort in this corner of the globe. I’ve hitchhiked with a few creepy dudes, a few savvy women, and a lot of average joes who like to ask me about what I’m doing here. I’ve driven through the empty, sandy deserts of Namibia and shopped ‘til I dropped at the ultra-modern malls of Johannesburg. I’ve become used to lunches of papa and moroho, while being able to escape to town to get a pizza every once and a while. I’ve seen what it’s like to live among people with barely any possessions to their name, though I’ve realized that even though more than half of this country technically lives in poverty, their wealth of meaningful relationships with family and neighbors overflows more than that of your average person in any developed country. I’ve done laundry in the river and washed my hair in a bucket. I’ve taken more uncomfortable taxi rides than I’d like to recall, and I’ve had the weirdest conversations with people from all walks of life. I’ve been addressed as ‘me (ma’am), ntate (sir), ausi (sister), and abuti (brother). My hair has gone from mid-back length when I arrived to half an inch long during training to a respectable, almost ponytail-worthy length now. I’ve taken pleasure in burning my trash in the ravine and feeding my food scraps to the pigs. I’ve harvested plants that I myself grew from seed to food. I’ve become familiar with the tiny paths around my village, knowing which ones to avoid when it rains and which ones to take for an exceptionally good view. I’ve come to love the mountains that surround me like a mother’s arms in the most beautiful village in this country (I’m not biased or anything…). So here’s to another year and change, to new experiences, to learning about myself and others, to life in Lesotho. Let’s do it!