BORN FREE!

My beautiful boy Sasha

I've had cats for so long now, that I'd forgotten how amazing a dog can be. There's a saying, I believe  from Woodrow Wilson, that if a dog will not come to you after having looked you in the face, you should go home and examine your conscience. I wonder how many people realize how true that is, and I wonder if Africans will ever get that concept. When I came to Mmathethe, I secretly wished that a black cat would find me to help fill the void that my precious, and soulful cat left after passing away over a year ago now. But just as an abandoned Sasha walked into my life 16 years ago, a young puppy with a similar soul found me here in Africa. Even though Keoki is a dog, the similarities in their being strikes me---he looks at me with knowing eyes, he's smart, he's as happy as Sasha was, he has a heart as deep as Sasha's, and he's as popular as Sasha was. But one thing he is, that Sasha wasn't, is African.....a dog that was born free!  Don't laugh---he's as culturally different from Sasha as I am from each and everyone of my fellow villagers.  

This week, I had the time to watch Keoki, and I realize that I have been domesticating a lion, an animal that was free, fended for himself, and knew how to be in the wild. But now I notice that my lion dog barks at bugs instead of attacking them like Sasha would, he herds cows and goats like a champ, and he barks ferociously at some men, but once they say something in Setswana, or take a rock in their hands, he cowers. So much for being my protector---so much for the lion in him! Maybe I'm wrong for feeding him, being his friend, showing him what the good life is about, maybe it's better that all animals are wild, but if you saw how happy he is.........

Although most everyone here has a dog, yet people are still afraid of dogs. If they see a strange dog, or even their own for that matter, they are usually inclined to react with fear or self-defense, to kick or throw rocks---and why would they not, if it's ok to behave this way towards women and children!   People's animals may be starving both for food and affection. Many who walk onto my property, completely ignore the fact that a dog even exists, even though he's jumping all over them. It seems that almost no one has a well cared for animal, or experienced the love and bond that can exist. Therefore, many dogs are aggressive and bite, or look horribly depressed, just like some children do without proper nuturing. When people act violently, fearfully, or in other ways that make me cringe, it's become crucial to me to try and understand their motives. They are not knowingly trying to cause suffering, they simply act out of survival---replicating the behaviors that have been learned, and that seems ubiquitous.

Everyone in this village knows me and Keoki. Even the other dogs know us---some even come to lick out Keoki's bowl because they know he is fed. More importantly, some people are learning not to treat my animal in a cruel way, yet others look in disbelief of what they see. They can't comprehend why he looks and acts so good. When I leave here in 2 years, I don't know what will happen to Keoki. It will be like setting Elsa the lion free again, and hopefully, he'll still have some African in him to fend for himself, while keeping his spirit that is so unique, and oddly different than any other animal in this village. I'm supposed to be capacty building, so hopefully, in the end, enough people will look at their pets and see something more than a just a wild lion in their yard, they'll see a heart that yearns for just a little hello, a pat on the head, and maybe, just maybe, a piece of meat!

UBUNTU!

No one likes to be rejected, but it is an inevitable life experience we all have to face at one point or another. From our career to our relationships, whether we are the most popular or a nerd, it happens!   Of course it hurts, and any grieving is natural, but those with character take a deep breath.

Recently, I learned that there is this African concept called UBUNTU, which is a concept that has come to signify unity---the interrelationship between all beings---that humanity is understood in relation with that of others. The word is from the Bantu language group, derivatives of which are commonly spoken in communities throughout Sub-Sahara Africa. A person with Ubuntu cares for others in a profound way, and deeply senses his/her interdependence with them. It is the recognition that one's well being is connected to that of others, 2 legged, 4 legged, and leafy!

This past week, two kids in the neighborhood took a deep breath in the face of rejection. My two neighbor boys were supposed to be picked up by their dad for the 2 week break to spend it with him at the cattle post. To Stame and Lefika, going to the cattle post with dad was like an American kid going to Disneyland for spring break. It's all they talked about for weeks. Well, dad never showed to pick them up. On the 2^nd day of the break, just when I thought all was quiet, and was free of kid play for 2 weeks, my two friends sauntered over, one with tears welted in his eyes, the other with his head leaning against my shoulder, telling me that dad never showed. The lack of understanding and sense of rejection in their faces was all I needed for the Psychologist in me to come out and do whatever I could to help the situation out. And so it was........

Lefika, Stame, and friend

We live in a world that can make our hearts ache, especially in Africa. So many kids here live without one parent or the other---it's almost natural, but I wonder how it really affects them. It has to be confusing! With HIV raging out of control, tsunami's devasting places, and children being left behind, the ramifications of these tragedies are felt in all directions. This week Stame and Lefika were two boys who needed to feel wanted, accepted, and pumped up. Usually, I put a limit to how many times a week the kids can come over to play, but this week, it was my pleasure to provide them with talk, play, and a lot of laughter. Every act of generosity, kindness, or compassion can heal our wounds---I just wish that everyone, especially Stame and Lefika's dad right now, can develop a world view of Ubuntu----centered rather than self-centered!   

EAT WITH YOUR HANDS PLEASE!

This past Saturday, I went to Kanye to catch up with the family. Grandma is back for two months and when I approached, she shook her big finger at me like I've been a bad girl. In fact, I haven't been bad—I've been so good that it's scaring me! All I could do was to shake my finger back at her, making her laugh and remember who I was.

Mom, Dad, and Kesego come back from Church, and fed me a good African meal. I asked my mom if there was any wisdom in eating with your hands---”No Tshepo, No Wisdom!” You see Tseph, we didn't have utensils back in those days, and some things just taste better with your hands.....period! Besides, it's easier, you don't have to wash dishes afterwards, now doesn't that make sense? Sure does mom, I hate doing dishes.

Noticably though, it truly is an art to eating traditional African foods with your hands, but you have to watch very carefully, or in my case, get a lesson from master mom. You can only use your right hand, make a ball with 3 fingers---no rolling in your palms like we would make a meatball---no--just 3 fingers and then you put your thumb print in the ball, and use that to scoop in meat, veggies, or a sauce, and then plop in your mouth gracefully. It's the graceful part I have trouble with! Now if you haven't perfected this technique, watch out---it'll plop on your shirt or some other unintended destination, thus making everyone laugh at your blunder.

It's hard stuff doing it right, but my mom is usually wiser than she thinks---it truly does taste better with your hands.  Did you know Tshep, "If a child washes his hands, he could eat with Kings!" (African Proverb) Thanks Mom, I knew I came here for a reason today!

GOD'S GARDEN

We need wilderness whether or not we ever set foot in it. We need a refuge even though we may never need to go there....we need the possibility of escape as surely as we need hope! Edward Abbey

Finally, I get to do what I love best---travel! The travel bug is a kind of illness, a delicious illness to have, and I have it badly! It is Easter Break, I would say Spring break, but it is fall here going into winter, yet it's still Easter and Passover time, and very confusing. But thankfully traveling is traveling. Seven of us make our way on the 10 hour bus ride up North to Maun, to stay in a backpackers hostel. Lying in my bed, next to my fellow PCV's, I reflect on the days I had money and traveled in style. But this is better in many ways, having rustic charm on a river, not having gourmet food, not having luxury baths. It builds something called character, and no matter, it's still travel, it's still an experience, it's still a wonder!

Driving through Moremi, it matters not how many animals are out in a day---what does matter is the land, the surreal nature, the habitat that has been untouched since the beginning of time. The landscape speaks to my inner senses, and an eerie sense of calm comes over me, just as the animals exude calm and acceptance. The golden plains against the early morning sun, the lone boabab tree, are all almost to much to bare.

The lone giraffe, with it's tall, stately features, glares through the bush, wondering why we stop to gawk at him. More giraffe come to see, then realizing there is no danger, they munch on the leaves of the trees, stare back, and then fade into the magic of God's Garden.

The impala with their graceful leap over the bush and over their friends, the leopard shows us his strong, but shy personality, the dexterity of the cheetah is like looking at Baryshnikov dance, and the way the elephant always comes towards you to tell you that this is his garden, not yours, and the hippo with it's loud song. I wish I could impart this thrill and sheer joy of being in God's Garden on you, but it is something only to be expeienced firsthand. It truly is though God's Garden, and what a wonderful garden it is!

The Cow Herd has Spoken

Lately I have been having serious doubts about my lowly human existence.  I seek a life where I just have to think about my next meal and not worry about my bank balance, where I can plonk myself in the middle of the road and swat flies away with my tail, and have a bunch of uneducated buffoons trying to convince the world of my importance.   Ah yes, being a PCV may fit this bill instead of becoming a cow, but I still want to ponder.

Ok, hold your bullshit please, there's more to come! In India, or at least in the Hindu religion, the cow is honored, sacred, and given special feedings at festivals all over India---they think that only a cow can save mankind, that by just touching a cow, you can reduce your blood pressure, kids who drink milk are more obedient, and foreign breeds of cows can cause heart attacks and autism. I wonder how many kids I worked with in California drank a lot of milk!

It makes me wonder how African cows fare against the Indian cow. I don't see kids with autism here, though many middle age people die of heart attacks. Growing up in New Jersey, and later living in coastal California, I haven't had much interaction with cows, in fact, being a vegetarian for so long, I never gave a cow a second thought. But living in a rural, agricultural village in Africa, cows have become a part of my daily life---so much so that I usually fall asleep to their moans, bells, and moos, and in the day time, they meander the paths just like me. At twilight, the cows mingle with people gossiping at the watering holes, and often, if your gate is open, they know exactly who has good grass and who doesn't.

Keoki is a cow master when they come in our yard. He loves romping them away, and is so proud after doing so. But one day, Keoki is out meandering himself, and a herd of cows are in my yard. Because I was putzing around my house, I hadn't seen them, and suddenly, I hear this clonking noise, then the clonking got closer and louder, and then my putzing stopped, turning around to a cow having walked up on my porch and right through my door.  Yep, you got it, right into my living room! You have no idea what it feels like to see a cow walking into your house.  Initially, I just wanted to run and grab my camera, but I keep it locked up, so it would have taken a few moments, and god only knows what the cow would've done.  So I just stood there staring, eye to eye with this cow, a cow with horns nonetheless. She looked as shocked as I was! In all curiosity, I wanted to see what the cow would do, and on the other hand, I definitely did not want cow poop in my house, so a decision was made to get the cow out of here. I went right up to it, told it to leave, and as it was backing out of the door, it stopped, glared at me, and gave the loudest moooooooo, and looking outside, the other cows were watching and decided to chime in with mooing me—or probably booing me for not letting their dad in. Whatever happened to Botswana hospitality! Yes, the cow herd had spoken! Maybe I should have let the cow and his family in for some afternoon tea and crumpets, but I still haven't figured out if these cows are as sacred as the Indian cow!

By India's standards, it would be great to be a cow since the cow always gives and feeds, representing life and the support of life.  So it was most likely a good omen that the cow walked into my house. Maybe he sensed that I was pondering my life as a cow, or maybe he had another message---stay a human, be gentle, and connect with nature, just like a cow---don't worry about your next dollar, just chill, eat simply, plop and relax!     

Harry Potter

"Now repeat after me.....without wands please.....repeat after me, RIDDIKULUS!"

It seems like every generation has something going on that changes the way we look at the world. This past generation has been inspired by Wizardry and Harry Potter. So I decided to test out his effect on African teens who have never read the books, saw the movies, and most have never even heard of him. I started a Harry Potter movie club—if I had the books here, it would have been reading time, but this is all I have.  I told the kids they would be watching 7 movies that make you believe that the impossible is possible, and you can do anything, no matter who you are! Good message for those who think they'll stay in Mmathethe eating porridge the rest of their lives!  

Personally, I have not read all the books, but I watched my nieces grow and be intrigued by Harry. As my nieces matured, they saw that life imposes bigger issues, yet they were able to watch and identify as Harry matured and struggled as well.  He struggled with his identity, his darker side, he dealt with disappointment from his mentor, he broke rules, was a little hot headed, and showed us that as we grow, our worlds become more complex, less black and white.  But even though he wasn't perfect, he was selfless, and he lived in a world where magic lied not in violence or arrogance, but in people---selfless, like Harry.  

So these kids have come over each Friday night for 3 weeks now, wide eyed, glued to the movies, laughing, and talking about it afterwards like I've never heard them talk before. They even took photos with their cheap, tiny cell phones, of HP on the computer screen, telling me that they're gonna look at the photo every night before going to bed. I want these kids to get that the magic of HP is really spiritual, it influences and challenges us to believe that what's inside matters, to hold ourselves to higher standards, that these girls and boys can find strength to do what's right. To say no without guilt! To go out and think for themselves!  To be MAGICAL! 

Harry Potter may not be real, but the message is in many heads that grew up with him, and I hope that as these kids look at HP, and as they grow, they'll have something to spark their imaginations, just like my beautiful nieces did!

The Voice

A now middle aged man has devoted his time for years to being a recluse, to meditate for hours on end each day, chant, and pray, just to be with God in the only way he knew how. The man rarely goes out, does not interact with others, only wants his isolation with the spiritual world. One day, deep in meditation, the man hears the voice of God telling him to go out in the field near his hut and move this big boulder. Immediately, the man stopped his meditation to follow the wish of God. He went to the boulder, leaned against it, pushing and pushing for hours with nothing happening. He went back daily for a week to do God's will, and still it wouldn't budge. Finally, in meditation, he questioned this command, and received an answer---Look at you, after one week you have more energy, more muscles, more color in your face. Meditation is good, but I just wanted you to go outside, feel the sun, do something physical, be in touch with something real...if I had wanted the boulder moved, I would've moved it myself!

This morning, I sat in meditation, though my meditation is filled with trying to stop the rampid thoughts in my head, but on this Sunday morning, I did not hear God or Buddha or my Mother, but I heard my own voice telling me to stop complaining about the food here, and just go out and do something about it. In another few weeks, it'll be too late to plant anything, so I get a big bag, and Keoki and I go off to the school garden to pick up some compost, then come back to re-dig the plots due to all the rain lately, plant my seeds, and build a little green house effect, but all I really want to do is chill on this day.

I push myself to get going after having a delicious pot of green tea and pretending I'm reading the the NY Sunday times! Hmmm, let's see what show I can fantasize about seeing today!  So, instead of taking my wheel barrel, the bag and I go, and some of the kids help pile in the compost, break up some good sticks for me, and help heave the heavy load onto my back for my walk home. I wish Keoki could carry this, he looks too happy prancing around and having everyone dote over him. On my way home, there are two guys behind me, and instead of helping me, they are laughing at me. I stop several times to readjust the bag, but this time I can't hold the bag, the sticks, and my pot of tea in. Trying not to slip in the big puddles from the rain, there is mud up to my shins, and I start peeing in my pants. The guys are laughing harder now because my pants are wet, the sun is getting hotter, and I just want to get home. Ok, so I'm struggling a bit here! I walk home holding my heavy parcel of cow maneur, holding my legs together so I won't pee more, and I'm ready to smack someone with these sticks if they don't stop laughing. Finally, I get home, and I'm now laughing so hard that I never did make it to the bathroom. Maybe this is a little personal, I don't usually pee in my pants, and here in Mmathethe, people pee all over the place, so why can't I just pee in my pants.

After my 10 minute fiasco back to my home, I do my hard work, sweat, watch the seeds go in to do their magic, and in all honesty, when it was all said and done---I felt fantastic!  God was right to tell that guy to get outside and smell the roses, to do something physical, move, breath in fresh air---it's all good for the soul!   I hope now I can chill and meditate that the Gods help those veggies grow and be healthy so I can stop complaining!