Village Life, Dec 29th
Many of the Peace Corps volunteers live in government housing compounds built for those working in schools and government institutions. However, several of us live in houses within the villages. My village is called Molepolole, which has over 50,000 people. It is one of the oldest. Its first chief came up to Botswana because of the tribal wars in South Africa. He also asked for protection from the British against the Boers. Actually David Livingstone lived here for a while with his family and was friends with the chief. My school is named after one of the chiefs and his son is now the third one to rule in the family.
My ward is Goo Ntlo Edibe, which means house of the sin. (Not sure how it got that name.) The father of my original host family is the kgosi or chief for the ward. He is paid by the government and is in charge of the kgotla, or meeting house. There are village committees for health, development, education and other things. Trucks drive through the ward usually in the morning or evening announcing meetings and important messages with a loud speaker. One cannot under estimate the importance of protocol here and going through the proper channels.
The ward is maybe 10 or more square blocks of winding dirt paths and roads and hundreds of people. Each family compound is about the same size, about a quarter of an acre. Because the Land Board hands out the land, the compounds are all about the same size. My compound has a main house, two small ones and a traditional round hut with a thatched roof. I live in one of the small houses, the daughter and her daughters in the other, her mother and father in the main house, and son in the traditional hut. So there are three generations on this compound which is not that uncommon since many people have children without having husbands. Economic times are hard in most cases, so living together makes sense. The grandmother in my compound is a retired primary school teacher with a pension and lands a few hours away where she raises some crops and a few cows and goats.
Although compounds are the same size, they are not all equal. The number and types of houses may vary in number and in quality of construction. However, most are constructed with cement blocks that they usually make themselves using a mold. The roofs are tin or thatched. The neighbors may or may not have electricity or water. Some have a stand pipe outside for water and others have water in the house. In my case I have both water and electricity inside. My electricity comes from via a cord in the main house. My electricity often goes out since the family forgets to pay for electricity. Sometimes the whole village is without electricity or water for short or long periods of time. The water in my case is in the bathroom which serves as my kitchen sink. I have a gas stove attached to a huge gas cylinder. My fridge is electric and plugs into the wall. My house has no ceilings other than a hot tin roof which resonates with noise when it rains. The ceilings have a web of white plastic tubing that contains electrical wires, I suspect. The floor is smooth, grey cement.
Despite unequal accommodations and access to utilities, the social life is on-going with people dropping in to chat beginning at 5:30am until dusk. To begin with many people are related to each other. For example, this past week elderly relatives died in different compounds. So there are uncles, cousins, “sisters” and “brothers” all over the place. When there is a funeral, all relatives from near and far come as well as neighbors. The same goes for weddings. In both cases you do not have to be invited. You can always drop in for free food. This is important since the majority is unemployed. Whether drunk or sober, young or old, disabled or healthy, everyone seems to be treated with respect in terms of the formal language. (Note I cannot understand what they are saying most of the time beyond the formal greeting.) A book entitled, Juggling Truths, by Unity Dow, a former high court justice and wife of a former Peace Corps volunteer, is about life of young children growing up in the village. It sounds amazingly realistic.
In terms of religion, there are many formal and inform Christian churches in the ward. There is also a small Mosque nearby that many South Asian business owners attend. We do have some well off Indians living in the ward. The majority of people attend a form a Christian evangelical church. They usually wear what looks like a Salvation Army or scouting uniform to church. Women might wear blue or green skirts with white shirts and a matching scarf. I have been hesitant to attend because the services last several hours. The music is generally very lively. As a matter of fact, people spontaneously sing at most events. It is really great to hear.
Most compounds have sandy yards with a few trees for shade. Goats, donkeys, chickens, dogs and cats tend to run free throughout the ward. I think most go home to eat at night, but who knows. Children also wander around. There is not a problem of getting lost and most times there are people at home in most of the houses.
So this is long way of saying, I feel fortunate to live in a family compound in the village as opposed to a government compound. Life is happening all around me. I only understand a small amount of what goes on around me and this keeps me guessing. Most of the beliefs and practices I will never know since I am an outside. But I fill in the blanks with my own filtered truths, as may be the case.
On finishing this piece, I stepped outside my door to see a beautiful double rainbow in the aftermath of a light rain. This comes after a day full of beautiful cumulus clouds before a sunset of a red and orange sky against the backdrop of low thorn trees and bushes on the distant hills. All this makes a scenic setting for relatively quiet village life. So that is how it looks today. I realize this is a rather lengthy description. Hope it is clear. Let me know if there are other topics you would like address. I also apologize if I have been repetitive in my accounts. I do hope to post photos at some point when I get a little help from my friends.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
A Local Safari
My Local Safari
Last week two Peace Corps friends invited me to share a small house with them for two nights at the Mokolodi Nature Preserve, just 10 K from Gaborone, the capital. Being up for new experiences, I was delighted to join them. Not knowing what we would fine, we were in for lots of surprises.
Our little traditional house was located near one of many watering holes. Morning, noon and evening we were treated to the sight of warthogs with their young wallowing in the mud, groups of gemsbok jumping on and off stage, ostriches overseeing the activity, giraffes spreading their legs to reach down to drink, grey herons perched along the shore, baboons playing in the trees, Egyptian geese floating in the water, kudu with their long twisted horns cautiously coming out to drink and retreating and lots more. The scene was like a stage with the entrance and exit of different species. It turned out to be our favorite pastime between activities that included cheetah petting, giraffe tracking, horseback riding, and viewing rhinoceroses, wildebeest, zebras, hippos, snakes and other game during an evening game ride.
There were no long bus ride, no large crowds and noisy crowds. We slept with the monkeys outside our windows and woke to the baboons barking in the morning. Throughout the visit we saw many colorful birds which we tried to identify before they flew off. Although most of the large animals had been imported to what had been a large ranch, I could not tell where exactly I was in Botswana. with a shrub and tree savannah as a back drop, the animals roamed only to be hunted by a few leopards and brown hyenas.
As we were leaving the park, we stopped by the educational center to see if we could arrange a low cost visit to the reserve for our 20 plus HIV positive teen club to take advantage of the reserves wonderful educational activities. To our surprise, we discovered we were talking to a former Peace Corps volunteer from 1977. He stated in fact that he knew a donor who would pay for an entire two day visits so our students ages 13-19 could spend a night. We were excited and booked a weekend for the club, knowing all we had to do was arrange transportation.
To our amazement, we discovered we were talking to a former Peace Corps volunteer from 1977. He never left Botswana. He came to teach science at a high school in Mochudi and married a local woman who became the first female high court judge and well known author, Unity Dow. Their kids were now grown and several were lawyers like their mother. Peter Dow had gone on to obtain a degree in the environment and conservation. With his wife stepping down from the court to pursue human rights cases and his leaving the Mokolodi Nature Reserve in January, a new chapter will begin in their lives. So Botswana in many ways is a small world and one full of surprises.
Last week two Peace Corps friends invited me to share a small house with them for two nights at the Mokolodi Nature Preserve, just 10 K from Gaborone, the capital. Being up for new experiences, I was delighted to join them. Not knowing what we would fine, we were in for lots of surprises.
Our little traditional house was located near one of many watering holes. Morning, noon and evening we were treated to the sight of warthogs with their young wallowing in the mud, groups of gemsbok jumping on and off stage, ostriches overseeing the activity, giraffes spreading their legs to reach down to drink, grey herons perched along the shore, baboons playing in the trees, Egyptian geese floating in the water, kudu with their long twisted horns cautiously coming out to drink and retreating and lots more. The scene was like a stage with the entrance and exit of different species. It turned out to be our favorite pastime between activities that included cheetah petting, giraffe tracking, horseback riding, and viewing rhinoceroses, wildebeest, zebras, hippos, snakes and other game during an evening game ride.
There were no long bus ride, no large crowds and noisy crowds. We slept with the monkeys outside our windows and woke to the baboons barking in the morning. Throughout the visit we saw many colorful birds which we tried to identify before they flew off. Although most of the large animals had been imported to what had been a large ranch, I could not tell where exactly I was in Botswana. with a shrub and tree savannah as a back drop, the animals roamed only to be hunted by a few leopards and brown hyenas.
As we were leaving the park, we stopped by the educational center to see if we could arrange a low cost visit to the reserve for our 20 plus HIV positive teen club to take advantage of the reserves wonderful educational activities. To our surprise, we discovered we were talking to a former Peace Corps volunteer from 1977. He stated in fact that he knew a donor who would pay for an entire two day visits so our students ages 13-19 could spend a night. We were excited and booked a weekend for the club, knowing all we had to do was arrange transportation.
To our amazement, we discovered we were talking to a former Peace Corps volunteer from 1977. He never left Botswana. He came to teach science at a high school in Mochudi and married a local woman who became the first female high court judge and well known author, Unity Dow. Their kids were now grown and several were lawyers like their mother. Peter Dow had gone on to obtain a degree in the environment and conservation. With his wife stepping down from the court to pursue human rights cases and his leaving the Mokolodi Nature Reserve in January, a new chapter will begin in their lives. So Botswana in many ways is a small world and one full of surprises.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Weddings,Funerals, Xmas and
Weddings, Funerals and Christmas Time
December, 2008
As I write in the cool of the morning, I am listening to news from the world and US via a shortwave radio, it all seems rather distant in an out with the airwaves fading in and out. So I switch to Pete Singer and listen to the song of homelessness in the US. In the forefront are the noises of cleaning and preparations for a wedding gathering. Sweeping, cooking, and movable plastic chairs are a necessity for any gathering whether it be a wedding or a funeral. People come, talk and eat. The chairs are moved constantly to either be in or out of the sun depending on the weather, but most often it is to pull under the shade of a tree.
Early one morning few weeks ago the lobola or bride price was decided by the older men in the family. Not sure how man cows it was, but there is a coral or kraal not far for actual cow to be placed, viewed and transferred if necessary. Today the wedding is occurring. The guests are gathering at the bride’s house across the way and the actually wedding party will meet here. Last weekend, there was another wedding celebration just behind my house. It took all morning to erect a huge tent and wonderful music floated throughout the neighborhood all day.
December is the time for lots of wedding celebrations. All children and teachers are off from school and most people return to their villages for several weeks to celebrate Christmas. Families gather in their compounds. Mine has several generations. The young ones toddle around, the teens cruise and do chores, the older sibs go visiting and the old ones sit and talk. It is all very relaxed. Christmas is family time. Some go to the lands to plough, most travel home, and those who work get time off later. Most holidays are at least two days here because people have to travel home, especially those who live near the Kalahari Desert in the middle of the country. Everyone I know who live there loves it and really misses it when they choose to work in the towns.
Funerals take place weekly. Mostly the old folks attend them. Everyone in this large village of 50,000 plus is related to everyone else. Hence, they are your sister or brother here. Many live to a ripe old age, but those with HIV/AIDS die of secondary infections like the son of my family who died a painful death just a few years ago leaving a small toddler who is toddling around this Christmas. Those who die on Sundays or during the week are buried early Saturday morning. The body comes to the house on Friday night and then leaves early the next morning for burial. The nights leading up to the burial have evening prayers in which the departed is prayed for after which people are feed hot meals regardless of their numbers. For the prayers and the funeral, there is wonderful music with wonderful call and responses. One of our teachers died the last week of school. At 7am one morning the last week of school, all students, teachers, admin, and staff (about 2500 plus) gathered in the outdoor assembly space. Teacher, students, administrators and family (from Zimbabwe)spoke, sang and prayed in a beautiful memorial service which was organized within a day or two.
These weddings, funerals and family gatherings are essential elements of the lives here in Botswana. While people live and work in a conventional bureaucratic system, the real life is family centered. Christianity and traditional beliefs are inextricably interwoven here in Botswana. Yet the dress, offices, streets and buildings look very western on the outside. Hence, as an outsider, one does not know what is happening below the surfaces. It all adds to the mystery, humbling one when you think you know what is happening or going to occur.
Which reminds me, if you and the time and really want to know what Peace Corps in Botswana is about, I suggest you Google some blogs of other volunteers. I just read several to learn how many of my co-workers are doing. Their stories make a real collage of what happens here. One was accidently stuck with a needle while holding a baby being treated and is now suffering through a month long treatment to prevent HIV, not easy. Many describe their experiences living and working here, their successes, failures and surprises. Many are very good writers and keep you in suspense. In all cases the story are very human and personal.
December, 2008
As I write in the cool of the morning, I am listening to news from the world and US via a shortwave radio, it all seems rather distant in an out with the airwaves fading in and out. So I switch to Pete Singer and listen to the song of homelessness in the US. In the forefront are the noises of cleaning and preparations for a wedding gathering. Sweeping, cooking, and movable plastic chairs are a necessity for any gathering whether it be a wedding or a funeral. People come, talk and eat. The chairs are moved constantly to either be in or out of the sun depending on the weather, but most often it is to pull under the shade of a tree.
Early one morning few weeks ago the lobola or bride price was decided by the older men in the family. Not sure how man cows it was, but there is a coral or kraal not far for actual cow to be placed, viewed and transferred if necessary. Today the wedding is occurring. The guests are gathering at the bride’s house across the way and the actually wedding party will meet here. Last weekend, there was another wedding celebration just behind my house. It took all morning to erect a huge tent and wonderful music floated throughout the neighborhood all day.
December is the time for lots of wedding celebrations. All children and teachers are off from school and most people return to their villages for several weeks to celebrate Christmas. Families gather in their compounds. Mine has several generations. The young ones toddle around, the teens cruise and do chores, the older sibs go visiting and the old ones sit and talk. It is all very relaxed. Christmas is family time. Some go to the lands to plough, most travel home, and those who work get time off later. Most holidays are at least two days here because people have to travel home, especially those who live near the Kalahari Desert in the middle of the country. Everyone I know who live there loves it and really misses it when they choose to work in the towns.
Funerals take place weekly. Mostly the old folks attend them. Everyone in this large village of 50,000 plus is related to everyone else. Hence, they are your sister or brother here. Many live to a ripe old age, but those with HIV/AIDS die of secondary infections like the son of my family who died a painful death just a few years ago leaving a small toddler who is toddling around this Christmas. Those who die on Sundays or during the week are buried early Saturday morning. The body comes to the house on Friday night and then leaves early the next morning for burial. The nights leading up to the burial have evening prayers in which the departed is prayed for after which people are feed hot meals regardless of their numbers. For the prayers and the funeral, there is wonderful music with wonderful call and responses. One of our teachers died the last week of school. At 7am one morning the last week of school, all students, teachers, admin, and staff (about 2500 plus) gathered in the outdoor assembly space. Teacher, students, administrators and family (from Zimbabwe)spoke, sang and prayed in a beautiful memorial service which was organized within a day or two.
These weddings, funerals and family gatherings are essential elements of the lives here in Botswana. While people live and work in a conventional bureaucratic system, the real life is family centered. Christianity and traditional beliefs are inextricably interwoven here in Botswana. Yet the dress, offices, streets and buildings look very western on the outside. Hence, as an outsider, one does not know what is happening below the surfaces. It all adds to the mystery, humbling one when you think you know what is happening or going to occur.
Which reminds me, if you and the time and really want to know what Peace Corps in Botswana is about, I suggest you Google some blogs of other volunteers. I just read several to learn how many of my co-workers are doing. Their stories make a real collage of what happens here. One was accidently stuck with a needle while holding a baby being treated and is now suffering through a month long treatment to prevent HIV, not easy. Many describe their experiences living and working here, their successes, failures and surprises. Many are very good writers and keep you in suspense. In all cases the story are very human and personal.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Obama's Victory and A Visit
On Wednesday, November 5, 2008, I awoke at 4am to listen to the Voice of America in order to find out the polls were closing and Obama was ahead in many key states. By 6am he was giving his acceptance speech in Grant Park. History was in the making. Here in Botswana, as in other parts of Africa, people were aware of the possibility that an African American would be the next American president. So I went around the school with a bag of sweets celebrating with everyone I knew, and in some cases with those I did not know. Being from Chicago and having worked for Obama in his US Senate race, it was a wonderful victory. I was so happy we could celebrate on both sides of the ocean. It could also bring change after years of war around the world. Happy Days!!!
Then I had the good fortune of a visit by my friends, Ken and Martha Simonsen, who visited me after a tour of South Africa. Being professors of philosophy and English, they did me and the school a favour by planning excellent presentations to history and English teachers. Ken discussed Nietzsche and the way his philosophy was used and misused by Hitler to create the concept of a superior race. His views were thought provoking and gave the history department additional information for teaching modern world history. The group also compared persons in African history who represented some of the characteristics which Nietzsche had in mind. Martha presented to the English department on strategies for teaching remedial English as well as ideas for teaching Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night and poetry. The member of the department went away with lots of ideas and great appreciation for her ideas and approaches. In both cases the teachers here saw and experienced master teachers and their methods of teaching in the US which contrast to the more preaching style of learning in Botswana.
After having taken advantage of the Simonsen’s teaching skills and experience, they invited me to join them in Johannesburg for a long, welcomed weekend. We saw some old friends we knew from Zimbabwe and caught up on what they had been doing. Then we learned in more detail about the long fight against apartheid by visiting several excellent museums and Soweto, a township that played an important role in the conflict. I even saw the museum where the first student killed in a protest against learning in Afrikaans took place. The day is now celebrated on June 16th as the day of the African child in Botswana and other countries. In addition, we saw an outstanding performance of Mozart’s Magic Flute, played on marimbas and including African music and dance. It was a most memorable time which went all too quickly.
And now as a write this is early December, I would like to wish everyone a good holiday season wherever you may be. As usual, I invite you to add comments and questions. I for one have lots to be grateful for in the New Year.
Then I had the good fortune of a visit by my friends, Ken and Martha Simonsen, who visited me after a tour of South Africa. Being professors of philosophy and English, they did me and the school a favour by planning excellent presentations to history and English teachers. Ken discussed Nietzsche and the way his philosophy was used and misused by Hitler to create the concept of a superior race. His views were thought provoking and gave the history department additional information for teaching modern world history. The group also compared persons in African history who represented some of the characteristics which Nietzsche had in mind. Martha presented to the English department on strategies for teaching remedial English as well as ideas for teaching Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night and poetry. The member of the department went away with lots of ideas and great appreciation for her ideas and approaches. In both cases the teachers here saw and experienced master teachers and their methods of teaching in the US which contrast to the more preaching style of learning in Botswana.
After having taken advantage of the Simonsen’s teaching skills and experience, they invited me to join them in Johannesburg for a long, welcomed weekend. We saw some old friends we knew from Zimbabwe and caught up on what they had been doing. Then we learned in more detail about the long fight against apartheid by visiting several excellent museums and Soweto, a township that played an important role in the conflict. I even saw the museum where the first student killed in a protest against learning in Afrikaans took place. The day is now celebrated on June 16th as the day of the African child in Botswana and other countries. In addition, we saw an outstanding performance of Mozart’s Magic Flute, played on marimbas and including African music and dance. It was a most memorable time which went all too quickly.
And now as a write this is early December, I would like to wish everyone a good holiday season wherever you may be. As usual, I invite you to add comments and questions. I for one have lots to be grateful for in the New Year.
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