Whole Foods

When you're first starting out as a Peace Corps Volunteer, there's not much to do but integrate, read, and think--especially when your primary job is in the schools which have been out for 6 weeks on summer vacation.  Oh sure, we have this community assessment to do, but guess what--anybody whose anybody in this small village is also away having good holiday cheer with their cows at the cattlepost, or at their lands plowing and praying for rain.  So, which brings me to thinking about Whole Foods, affectionately known in the good old days as Mrs. Gooches.  I wish they would have kept that name, it's so catchy!  Anyway, going to Whole Foods was one of my favorite things to do, other than going to Asia of course, which tells ya how exciting my mid life was going!  I went nearly everyday, knew everyone there, sometimes I would just go to look at the beautiful and delicious array of fruits and veggies, or chat with friends who frequent there.  Fortunately, or unfortunately right now, in this current incarnation, I'm an organic health freak now living in a country that has the world's worst diet.  They put margarine, colorings, preservatives in everything and anything, even freshly made bread.  It makes me so sick that I can't even have a piece of bread, which is why I'm sitting here daydreaming about Whole Foods.

Going to the supermarket here--we'll call it Choppies--couldn't be more opposite from my Whole Foods experience---it's my least favorite thing to do.  There is no market in my village, so I have to take the dreaded kombie ride to either one of two towns.  No joke, the other day people were clammering and shoving me away to get on the kombie--you'd think they were running into Shea Stadium to see the Beatles.  It was awful, so in an act of desperation, I put the hook of my umbrella around someone's neck so I can get in.  Funny, the person could have cared less that I was trying to kill her for a dreaded kombie ride to the dreaded supermarket.  Finally, I'm here, in my least favorite place in the world, and Whoa, people are shoving me around, sticking their hands and bodies over me, around me, through me, just to get freakin' can of preserverative ladened whatever.  Come on people, how can you be so nice when talking in the villages, and you get in a kombie, or in a store in this case, and you turn into animals?  I just don't get it!  Onward to make my way to the veggie section, I close my eyes and pray that when I open them I'll be back in Whole Foods, where people are sane--they even say excuse me if bumped, they ask what you're making for dinner, they say hello, they are sooooo normal!  My eyes open and reality hits--I'm still in this god foresaken Choppies---maybe if I click my heals 3 times, Santa Clause (if there was one here) will zap me to Whole Foods.  Please Santa, it doesn't have to be as far as California, London will do just fine!

Groceries in hand, it is now time to check out, but this can be worse than actually getting your groceries.  I compare this to the kombie rides because today, I'm in line and someone puts their groceries in my basket--just like handing over a kid to ya on the bus.  Hey lady, whatta ya doing?  She looks at me snarling at her, and says, "hold this, I'll be back later."  Sure lady, whatever you say!  I see that people just take things out they really don't want and put them on the check out stand to sit there probably til closing, so I think I'll put her stuff there too.  It's finally my turn to check out, and I'm trying to get my stuff out as the checker is just staring at me--no hello, or how are you like they do at Whole Foods...just, let's get this over with!  I forget to weigh an onion, so it's 10 minutes til someone comes back to tell us how much the onion is--you would think she's start ringing up the other items while we wait, but no, the common sense factor is turned off today---next item, the checker yells out "does anyone know how much this costs?"  Of course nobody answers, and it's another 10 minutes finding the price of this. I look back at the people in the now longer line, and they all have the same expression on their faces as the checker---BLANK!  Ok, this is really fun...I wish someone would start yelling or something---how can they be so crazy in the isles, and on the check out line, so, well, so nothing!  Now the lady who put her groceries in my basket returns and shoves her way behind me, smiles at how neatly I threw her stuff on the counter.  "Where'd ya go lady, Tokyo?"  "Huh!" "Never mind."

It's finally over, but going outside of Choppies is also a fiasco with the so called Black Market selling potatoes and cabbage.  Yum!  I stop to take this all in and ask myself why on earth the PC didn't send me to Thailand with it's coconuts, vibrant markets, and gentle people I'll never know, but here I am resorting to fantasizing about Whole Foods coming to Botswana!

I wonder what my fellow PCV's have been thinking about this holiday season!

Keoki the Dog

"If your dog thinks your the greatest person on earth, don't seek another opinion."  J. Fiebig

They say that dog is man's best friend, and that statement couldn't be more true---feed it, love it, and wammo you have instant unconditional love!  I have had dogs growing up, though my adult life has been filled with cats, who always have had the last word, and were nice enough to let me live in their house.  When I came to Botswana, there was no way I wanted an animal to tie me down, besides, how fair would it be to keep and love for 2 years, then adios amigo!  The other day I went to visit the family in Kanye, who were just given 2 new pups from a neighbor.  Immediately, besides falling in love with the little devils, I grew a disdain at the lack of caring for animals, other than cows and goats, in this country.  The poor creatures are starved for affection, someone to talk to, rub their ears, and feed them.  These new pups live in a little fort outside, and mom gives it her yummy porridge.  I come in play with them, talk to them, and when mom turns her back, I pour them milk, and find anything I can that doesn't look like porridge.  Believe me pups, I ate the stuff for 2 months--now you're stuck with it the rest of your life, UGH!  The pups are so happy at this moment, but I cannot take them.  It would be unfair to domesticate them, besides this other crazy puppy, who was just left by someone around my neighborhood, has been hanging with a neighbor, though the dog has decided that he likes me better, and wisely has adopted me.  The neighbor asks if I want her kid too...no thanks lady!  Yeah I once threw it a steak bone once, yeah I talked to it, yeah I pet it, yeah, why wouldn't it want to adopt me.  Now it was screaming at my gate, so the sucker I am, opened it and whalla...a pup is adopted.  I really didn't think it would stay, but the next morning the dog is peering it's head through the barred gated door asking, "mom, what's for breakfast?"  "Nothing, get out!"  The tail wags more--"ok, do you want your eggs scrambled or sunny side up?"  "Uh, how about soft boiled mom."  "Sure doggie, soft boiled it is, and maybe I'll join you!"  As we dine together, I realize that this pup needs a name, so I call him a good Hawaiin-Asian name, Keoki, that's good for an African dog don't ya think?  I like it!  He's skinny and scrawny, but has personality!  But the neighbors are a bit confused!  It's ok everyone, you'll get used to it!

So, I have a dog now---the God's obviously thought I needed one to guard me from my nightly intruders, so I'll love it in a detached way.  Here is what detachment looks like---I hitch to Lobatse, about a 35 minutes drive in the back of a pickup truck, scrunched over, and holding on for dear life so I don't blow away.  I run into another Volunteer who adopted two cats, and was shopping for cat food, so off we go to the store chatting about our new detachments.

Getting home was easier than going, and Keoki gets his first taste of real dog food, and the tail is whipping so hard out of happiness that it's giving me bruises on my legs.  I make a bed out of cardboard boxes for him on the porch, and he is smiling away!  Wow, a bed too!  This is the life!  It's dark now and the sky is almost white from the amount of sparkling stars.  I lay in my bed hearing Keoki growling at someone---the someone's feet run away, and I peaked out the window thanking my new best friend.  Tonight I slept like a puppy!

HOLIDAYS IN AFRICA

"Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love!"

The holiday season is a time of gatherings, reflection, and hopefully a remembrance of others.  It's a time to look back on the year and be thankful for what was received.  This was a year of big change for me, and now being in Africa this season as a Peace Corps Volunteer, it definitely conjures up different images than I'm used to.  I remember moving to California and it never feeling like the holidays because of the weather, though I always held onto the images of the falling leaves and the first snow fall.  My aunt Eileen always made a point to call me when the snow fell because she knew the joy it brought to me.  Since XMAS falls in summer here in Botswana, it's not the snowy dark wintry night, but sunshine and blooming flowers that grace the holiday season.  Traditional customs differ than those I'm used to, and there won't be the smell of our baking cookies, nor our homemade mushroom and barley soup for all to share.  The sight of brights lights around town, and sound of presents being open are only in my minds eye this season.  Instead, African harmonies will be heard throughout the village a few days before XMAS, and reality will be about the poverty that surrounds me, the lack of visual decorations, as well as the love that's all around.  It's a good time of year to become acquainted with new traditions, with that comes a realization that Africans hold an abundance of old wisdom, some of which I plan on soaking up.  People use branches of trees for home decorations, and their customs include the slaughtering of cows and goats for their big holiday feast.  How wonderful to be so connected to the natural resources in our backyards!  Neighbors in the village all want to share their tradition of going to hear choirs sing and compete, and as we share stories, I can only hope that the cultural gaps keep adding richness to both our lives.  So with a different set of eyes this year, I'll embrace the new world I'm living in.

The day after XMAS is known as Boxing Day, and it is celebrated as the day to relax---how great--give the men who killed the meat, and women who cooked it, a long day to kick back and digest the entire cow.  Boxing day is actually a holiday!  We should do this in the USA---just leave the leftovers out, watch a little football, and leave the wrappings from presents all over the living room because it's really the sweetest site!  AAh, that sounds so good, but let's get back to Africa--I can't resort to sentiment right now or else I'll cry.  Yup, the real reason to cry is not being able to watch football!  How's that for sentiment!  Ok Africa, I'm back---oh yeah, some of the kids around have asked about the holidays in America.  Maybe I shouldn't tell them the truth, yet they are as starved for information, as much as I am starved for Chinese food. They say they wish they could be in the States so they too can get presents, but they may be better off not having the abundance we have. Yesterday a friend came over to tell me she is applying to Harvard and Yale next year so she can get a good education and come back to help people in Botswana.  How awesome is that, and what a gift it was to hear it!

This year in Africa I have much to be grateful for and I hope that we all remember to give in some ways.  I reflect on those I have lost this year, especially my soulful Sasha, my colleague Irwin, and those who are struggling with illness like my good buddy Jacques.  I look to the star filled sky, to the red earth in the village, taking in all in, and I hold it that much more precious because they no longer can. This year I am ever so grateful to my family, Marilyn and the boys, my neighbors and friends for supporting my life altering decision.  I am especially thankful for the love, humor, and acceptance of my host family, and for my new friends and students.  

Happy Holidays to All!

Shirts off!

School's out for the summer, which really should be holiday break, nonetheless, I'm enjoying doing what I want, and trying to lounge around on my piece of foam in the mornings.  But mornings are when things happen in village life because it's so bloody hot during the day time that you can't even breathe.  It's 8am and I hear donkey honks, and "Tshepo, wake up."  I didn't know that donkeys can speak too!  With my morning hair and PJ's, out I go to see that indeed, the garbage donkey's have finally got it down.  The garbage is collected, and the two women driving the cart on this beautiful, suffocating day, asks if I remember them from the wedding attended last week.  Sure, your what's his faces cousin--it's always a safe answer--everyone is a cousin to somebody here.  The next thing I know the women are walking in my house telling me to make them a cup of tea.  Hmm, I don't recall inviting you in, but I see I have no choice here.  Do the donkeys want to come in for some tea too!  I've never been anywhere before where people just do, and don't ask.  "Hey Tshep--don't ya have any better tea than this?"  "Nope, the Peace Corps doesn't give us tea, and by george, your not gonna get my good tea from China."  As I turn to pour the tea, the two women remove their shirts and are sitting here in their bras, pouring half the bag of sugar in their tea.  I don't even know your names and you're removing your clothes--gee how things go around here.  Sitting here, it's hard not to be laughing my butt off, but no, I have to sit and chat about garbage collection with two shirtless, no-named women, for the next 20 minutes, and with donkeys peering through my door.  Tea is finished, they put their shirts back on, and abruptly leave as they came.  My day is off to a great start!

Nature walk

Hanging around the house the rest of the morning was fun, but someone named Wiseman was supposed to come and fix things around here.  Of course he doesn't show, so I leave in this heat to go and find some people to talk to for this Community Assessment that's due soon.  Taking the 20 minute walk to the clinic takes over an hour, but this time it's because I stop to admire some nature and talk to some with beautiful gardens.  I tell them I once had a beautiful garden and they laugh in disbelief because my yard currently looks like the Munsters place.  While walking around, I point out that the woman has a green thumb---well, you would've thought I was Jay Leno.  She had never heard the expression before, called out her family and neighbors to come over so I can say it all over again.  These people were in hysterics, and it's ten minutes of explaining what the term "green thumb" means.  I'm glad to bring such laughter to these beautiful people, but then one of the women just takes off her shirt.  Ok, nice to meet ya!

Talking to nurses at the clinic and police was most interesting, but not as interesting as running into the local Vet who tells me that the biggest problem in the community is lumpy skin disease.  After some inquiry, he is talking about the precious cows, but his "community" are the cows and goats.  He shows me the only medicine in the clinic that they give to the animals with this disease, and I ask what happens when a dog comes in with something other than this lumpy thing--oh, we give all animals this medicine no matter what.  No wonder why all the dogs look the same around here.  Remind me not to go to him if I get sick!  "So, Mr. Vet, where do the cows sit when they come to see you?"  "Uh, they just stay outside."  "Very good, I think I'll go outside too, see ya!"  By the way, Mr. Vet has no shirt on!

Leaving the center of the village, an older woman stops me to ask what I'm doing.  I tell her, and she insists I come in and talk with her and her grand daughter as well.  Ok, as long as you don't take off your shirts.  In a few minutes time, we discover that her and mom are good friends, and with that we are off to the races, chatting away about old times like I've been in the picture all these years.  Got any good gossip for me?  As we talk, she is chopping veggies into tiny pieces just like mom taught me, and then a streak of fear runs through me because she says something to the grand daughter in Setswana, and I just know it's about getting me something to eat.  Please no, I can't take it--she comes out with a piece of fruit that is round, green, and hard.  I look, I smile, I smell, with hopes she says to take it home so I can give it to the donkeys!  Mmm, this looks delicious, what is it?  An orange--oh, I should have guessed that myself, and at that she hands me a knife to carve it.  Maybe we should pray before I eat so I don't break my teeth and have to see the Vet, who seems to be the only doc around here.  He'll give me cow medicine when he sees the lump I just ate!  The next thing I know, Mpho is inviting me for lunch tomorrow.  No thanks,  I have cows to talk to, but I'll be sure to stop by soon!  Turning to wave as I leave the property, no bull, the grand daughter is taking off her shirt--at least she waited til I was gone!

Four hours later, my sweaty body is home, and I rip off my shirt just as I learned today.  It really does feel good, but I'll put it back on as I'm not as free when a left over teacher comes to check me, and then 2 students come to play cards with me.  Finally, some peace and quiet, and as I get ready to fall asleep under my mosquito net, I am comforted by the deep silence, when all of a sudden I hear the loudest MOOOOO I've ever heard---ah, just another passerby in the village coming to check me!   Goodnight!

KOMBIE RIDE

My mind and my senses are in overdrive since coming here, that I don't even know where to begin organizing my thoughts.  My private journal is almost filled and all I ever feel like doing is writing.  In a year from now things may not be so new, and I just imagine that these blog posts will be consumed with projects, along with the complexities, and layers of relationships formed with my students and village folks.  For now though, everything is a story, take for example riding on a Kombie.  A Kombie is a van of sorts, with torn, broken seats, and they are the primary means of transport in and out of the village.  Kombies are like flying coffins, as they have few safety codes covering their condition.  Some have doors held by wires, some have seats that fly out the door with you when you get off. Every time I get on one, I brace myself because they won't leave until it is full or overfull--meaning, it is 100+degrees and people are breathing or sneezing in your ear.  The people here also have a superstition of wind, so if you open a window to breath, stares come in all forms.  But in the right frame of mind, they are charming! Lucky me got to spend the night in Gabs last week, our Capital, and where the Peace Corps office is.  Besides getting a few great meals, my biggest thrill was being able to take a real shower, with real hot water, with real strong water pressure.  It's funny how after only 3 months, a shower becomes a luxury!  I'm clean for the first time in weeks, and now I have to go back to my dirt paths and cold water bucket baths. 

Off to the kombie--I get in, in one minute I get handed someone's huge bag, her phone, her wallet as she gets situated.  They never ask if you would mind holding something, it's just given, and thank you afterwards is unheard of.  One time I said God Bless You to someone who sneezed, and it started a conversation of the bible.  I'll never say that again!  I wouldn't mind holding things for others, but on this particularly hot and muggy day, I just want to enjoy being clean for about an hour or two.  Woman gets situated, takes her stuff back, gives me a smile.  They are piling on now, and someone hands me a kid--doesn't ask--in a split second I'm a mother--cootchy coo little one!  Maybe I should just pass the kid around because in a second, I'm done with being a mom.  The kid is looking at me like "do I know you?"  Nope, but it looks like we better get to know each fast because mom is taking her sweet little time here, and probably likes not schlepping you around at the moment.  Finally, mom takes kid back---adios buddy.  Funny thing, she didn't even ask for the kid back, just took him, and plopped on the other side of me.  We're finally off, packed in like sardines, and the combie driver is stopping every five minutes to let yet another on.  I close my eyes to pretend I'm sleeping, but still more stuff is thrown on me--I definately have picked the right seat today!  The kombie stops yet again, the driver gets off to schmooze with a buddy, gets back on, stops in 3 minutes, gets out to pee--why he didn't pee 3 minutes ago is beyond me, gets back on, stops again for something, and finally we are on the open road!  YAY!  I go to open a window, but oops, there is no handle on the window...I am sufficating and sweating bullets...now my shower is but a sweet memory!  All of a sudden, I hear my name being called from the back, but my head is stuck between three people and I can't turn it to see who on earth knows me here. Then the poking begins, yes I know someone wants me, but what to do!  Finally, my head gets to turn a bit, "Hey Tshepo, remember me!"  Politely I say sure, even though I have the slightest idea who this person is, so with a half turned head I strike a conversation about the holidays, asking how to say holiday things in Setswana, and this makes Miss Whoever very happy!  She gets off the kombie in nowheresville, leaving me to wonder where on earth she is walking to and where on earth she knew me from.  I enjoy the last 40 minutes of my kombie ride in complete sweat and with coils from the seat stabbing my butt!

One day I'll take photos of a kombie, but for now it would cause so much commotion.  Thank god I made it back to my sweet village of Mmathethe where I am greeted warmly.  They all ask where I've been, like I've been gone for a month, and I tell them I was just having fun on a kombie ride!

A Summer's Eve Walk!

Since it is a hot summer's night, come on and take a stroll with me around the neighborhood.  As I walk around, my thinkings wander to what a good cook I used to be, and now with minimal ingredients to use, I have turned into a cooking dunce.  But you see, walking in and out of the village's dirt paths, Batswana's primarily do their cooking in big iron pots outside behind a stick structure.  The smell of goat, cow, chicken, and veggies or maize permeate through my senses.  Since many homes have a good chunk of land and are not right on top of each other, I think about going from house to house and asking what's for dinner, hoping to be invited, or maybe they'll see how pathetic I am and offer to give me cooking lessons the Botswana way.  Mom has tried with me, but somehow they seem to get it, and I don't!  I can't even find the sticks they use so I can at least build my own stick fortress and pretend I am one of them.  If I invite them over to my house, maybe I can offer them a bowl of coco puffs, what do ya think?

Now continuing along our walk, a beautiful woman stops to greet me, and tells me she is 75 years young because all she eats is the veggies and grains grown in her yard.  She looks 50!  After a few moments, she goes on her merry way leaving me to wonder if my coco puffs are considered vegetarian!  I used to be vegetarian, but gave that up for mid-life crisis---maybe I should reconsider!

garbage truck

Ok onward down another path where I notice that there isn't a stick of garbage.  Where on earth do they put it?  My garbage, which I paid 3 months of pick-up, is over flowing.  So, let's ask someone about this---"We don't have garbage,"  "How can you not have garbage?"  "We thought Americans were supposed to be smart," "Sorry, not when it comes to garbage collection in a foreign country."  "You see, we eat what we make, and we make what we have."  Oh, I get it---maize, veggies, and cow--no garbage, no water bottles, no paper products--nothing but what you grow...how intelligent!  No wonder they live til 100!  Now why can't I do this---tomorrow I'm gonna find someone to plow my land and wait for someone to send me seeds from the USA so it's organic, and maybe I won't have to deal with the garbage men!  I don't mean to divert from my walk, but the next morning the garbage truck comes!  This is the best garbage truck I ever saw!

Let's turn left, this looks like a pretty path with traditional mud huts, and fun loving people.  Yup, I picked the right path, a whole flock runs up to me, a flock of family that is, and they all know exactly who I am, and I can't recall anyone, but it's ok, they quickly remind me.  Come, come meet my mama!  Into the house I go, but not without admiring their yard and dwellings.  I tell them how lovely things are, and it only took 2 minutes to fall in love with their home, the yard, and their souls.  The family starts telling me the order of 5 children, how each structure surrounding was built facing the main home according to birth order, and so now I know what each cousin, uncle, and aunts all do---and, I'm supposed to remember all the names such as Nifelwe, Mmpho, Mmabelle.  Yikes, I can barely pronounce my own African name correctly!  All African names have meanings to them, for example, my name, Tshepo, means trust---so why can't I call everyone by their meanings, it would make things so much easier..."Yo, Confidence, I could use a little today!  The family goes on to talk about many things, but most of all how growing up in Mmathethe there was hardly anything but land, and playing with each other was all they had besides their crops.  Hmm, it looks like nothing has changed in 90 years!  I defer questions about America because this is much more interesting.  After a long and hearty conversation, the mama told me they would come fetch me on XMAS day to hear the family sing in a choir, and I get to share to their goat with them..YAY!  (I better remember 40 of their names at least)!   As I walk away and think about this interaction, I guess the term "nothing" is all relative--I bet they still had their sticks to make posts and their cauldron to cook in!  Lucky them!

my friends on our walk

one of the family

 Back on my route, I find my "Grandma's"  home, and yes, a million relatives are all facing her house in order.  So this is where the fam grew up!  Tears welted in my eyes as mom's sister let me in to look. Mom's sister doesn't speak much english, but no words were needed as I meandered through the rooms, and scanned her belongings of 98 years.  Reality is, I am in Mmathethe, yet walking into this house was like seeing my own grandma's home with all of her treasures, photos, and old furniture.  You can almost hear the stories beckoning to be shouted out from the walls.  Soaking this all in, and reflecting on my grandma's life stories, I now know why this grandma always wants to come back to Mmathethe---this is where her spirit is---this is where her tales are!

Hope you enjoyed our walk!  The sun is setting and it's time to go home--wanna join me for dinner--we'll have a big bowl of coco puffs--I'll even slice a banana on top!

"Return to old watering holes for more water, friends and dreams are there to meet you!"  African Proverb!

Celeb Status in Mmathethe

view from my kitchen window

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a celebrity, even just for a few minutes?  Well, if you have, I encourage you to join the Peace Corps, and ask to be placed in Africa, anywhere in Africa.  I have been to many places in the world, and it seems the people of Africa are the most curious.  So, let me relay some of the ways that curiosity is expressed.

First off, let me tell you about my village of Mmathethe---it is quite rural, though growing, many people are very poor, and in my section of the village, very few have electricity, so out of respect, I am conscious of not turning on too many lights, besides, I don't want to attract even more attention to myself. It is an agriculture community, hence the cows, goats, donkeys, and chickens are as big a part of this community as it's people.   It's a 5 minute walk down a path to my school with a small store across from the school, and all the roads are dirt, with the exception of a paved road that runs through which is a good thing.  Some of my fellow PCV's have no paved road and either have to hitch, get the local ambulance to take them, or hitch on a small plane if they are far out of the way.  On either side of the road is village life with dirt roads, or should I say paths that have been made into roads by donkey carts or cars.  Unfortunately the village is spread out, so it takes me about 20 minutes to walk to the hub of town which consists of a Post Office, clinic, police, and a Kgotla which is where the Chief and the Elders of the village hang out, and where all functions take place, such as the Coronation that I went to here in Kanye. It takes 8 minutes if I hitch on a donkey cart!  Speaking of which, the Leopard Chief was at our swearing in, and still, I have not seen a smile from the man!  He also was not, to my dismay, in his leopard suit at our function!

Ok, back to Mmathethe---everyday I walk down different paths to explore, and some of the houses are incredible because the people have used what is in the bush, and have made art in their gardens and homes.  I absolutely love walking around this village and seeing that, as well as the traditional mud huts, and just how people are working so hard on a daily basis to keep things moving.  The terrain of the village is flat and desert-like, but it has character!  On my daily walks I am constantly greeted, some run up to me wanting to know who I am, some want a hand shake, some come hugging me telling me they are my cousins (mom grew up here and has a huge family), some want to touch my hair, the little kids have a bizillion questions and follow me around, and others just stare.  The people at the Post Office where I use the internet, hover around me, staring, while I check my email, and one has invited me to a baby shower---she talks to me, but mostly stares and smiles.  They all know why I'm living here, but they don't really get it!  Each one will have a story, and I aim to hear every one of them!  As I was walking a few days ago, one stopped and invited me to a wedding on the 17th, and I also have one on the 18th.  Weddings are obviously not by invite only, anyone can show up and be totally accepted.

My house, as you see, is quite big--too big for me, but it is ok.  I have 3 bedrooms (see pics in photo section), a bath, kitchen, dining room, and huge living room.  It's not a well made house, and frankly, given all the mishaps in the house, I would have preferred a romantic mud hut!  I'm not complaining though, I like having running water and the ability to read at night---it's just BIG!  Nightly, I have visitors coming to "check" me.  I am never lonely!  If it's not a cow or a goat, it's a live person---sometimes though I prefer the animals.  A chicken has adopted me, and has taken the liberty of walking in my house whenever he feels like it.  Next thing I know, I'll be giving the chicken my second bedroom---the thing better lay eggs for me at least--I'm starved!  My neighbors to the front are great, and I have a neighbor to the side who is a carpenter, and when I asked about my water problem, he looked at me and said "never saw that before!"  Some help he's gonna be, but he's a good guy!  Other neighbors have been equally great, but I reserve judgement on a few of them.  The best thing of all is the view from my house at sunset---some nights the sky just lights up and it is simply awesome!

Now for the best part, my school and it's kids! I had no idea what to expect when I started school.  I thought it would be like walking into any old school and kids would be kids.  Not in Africa!  I was startled to say the least at the reaction I got from teachers and kids alike.  They form huge circles around me and I couldn't get out if I tried!  They stare, some ask questions about America, they hysterically laugh when I say something, and they are groping to shake my hand or just touch me---simply put, I am a celebrity here!   It's been 2 weeks now, and it hasn't let up...I have shaken 700+ hands on a daily basis--currently, I am teaching them to high five, it's easier.  Individually, they will come running to me to tell me they love me, touch my hair some more, or just want to talk.  Whenever I talk to someone, they go running to the closest friend and start clapping or acting like idiots because they got to talk to me.  Passing a class in session is not an easy task because they all hang out the windows whispering "Mme Tshepo, can I shake your hand later?"  Sure buddy!  A teen club is already started (PACT CLUB), and it's nice because they are starting to get used to me, and are cool when they see me outside of the group now.  I have let some in my home, but the next day it was all that they talked about. The teachers are welcoming, but they too, are curious, and all want to come stay with me in the states for a few weeks!  I tell ya, anyone who wishes to visit here will be in for a real treat because the teachers are determined to show what it's like to really live here for a few days!

can anyone name me please

Besides all the fun, I look into each and everyone's eyes, kids and my neighbors alike, and I see twinkles in some, hardship and despair in others, sadness, as well as hope for a better a world.  My school is a boarding school, so some are locals, some are far from their families, many are orphans desperately wanting to be loved and nurtured.  When I taught some of them how to play Red Rover, Red Rover, you should have seen their excitement.  They rarely get to play and have fun!  They get whipped at school when they are naughty, they are poor, they recognize the issues of HIV, poverty, and Teen-age pregnancy.  When fights start, they are not broken up--sometimes the younger kids are sent home early if they know a fight is going to happen. Many are suffering, and it's hard not to have your heart strings tugged at!  I can only hope at the end of my two years here, I can go up to each and every one of them, and shake their hands in awe because they have been the ones who made the difference and succeeded!