7/9/10: Mixed Emotions
Friday as I was leaving Letsie the secretary approached and asked if I knew why Neo, one of my students, had been missing all week. “She’s just absent” my students told me each day when I asked where she was. After all, Maschecks and Sbaby were also truant the entire week due to health concerns and a camping trip, respectively. I just assumed that Neo had caught some bug and was not feeling up to the intense COSC review sessions we taught.
It turned out that Neo’s mother had just passed away, although I did not know of the cause. Neo has younger siblings as well, although she lives at the boarding house at Letsie, for her mother and siblings lived too far away for her to commute to school from. Neo was already a single orphan (her father died years ago) and her mother had not had a job since his death. As a result, Neo’s school fees were not paid for the past several years, nor were her boarding fees. She was one of the students I was desperately trying to find funding for, as the principal informed me that she was a very bright student and the government would not allow her to even take the COSC exam if the fee for the test was not paid in full.
When I heard that her mother had died I had very mixed emotions, something that both disturbed and baffled me. On one had I was devastated that Neo is now a double orphan, with no living parents and now must worry about her younger siblings being alone in a far away village. However, part of me felt relief for my student, a feeling I had never encountered upon learning about the passing of a loved one. You see, when a student becomes a double orphan, all school fees are paid for by the Ministry of Education and Technology, including COSC exam fees. If Neo passes the exams, she will be able to attend University for free. She will also be able to live at Letsie for free and attend classes there as well, and her debt will be erased. I feel almost ashamed at my relief that the government will now be fully responsible for Neo’s school fees and exam dues. however, so many students at Letsie are in her exact same position; it appears that approximately 35% of the students are double orphans. I can only hope that Neo does attend university in Lesotho and becomes a police officer (the occupation she told me she hopes to secure in the future)
7/10/11: “Please, Stop eating!”
Today we woke up bright and early to go horseback riding along a mountainside in Malealea, a village about an hour and a half away from Thaba Bosiu. Bobo, Mr. Chimombe’s son, was extremely kind enough to drive us there and back (although he was two hours late picking us up; I keep forgetting that time is relative here in Lesotho!)
The trek was amazing, both visually and physically. I have never seen such natural beauty before (although I did a similar but briefer pony trek in Colorado), nor has my body been this sore in quite a long time!! I am writing this account the day after we trekked, and I can safely say that nearly every single muscle in my body is aching, and the skin on my forearms is even chafed slightly (how that happened, I have no idea).
The trek consisted of a 2.5 hour ride to a waterfall, lunch near the waterfall (which we packed ahead of time) and then a 1.5 hour ride back. The way back was much shorter because Susan and I, being inexperienced riders, felt comfortable enough with our animals to start trotting a bit, which sped the return considerably. Consequently, that was the part that most likely is causing my physical discomfort today!
Susan and I (again, due to our inexperience) were put on the “soft” horses, or those with the more gentle temperament. As a result, our horses stopped to drink water, eat grass, and just stare at the mountain a lot. We repeatedly yelled at our horses to stop eating and just walk, but they never seemed to take to our frustration. I was also too gentle with my horse at first, and only when I started using (what I considered was too much) a bit more force did Selena (the horse) start to comply with my wishes. We often lagged behind beth and Beverly, whose horses never seemed to want to slow down.
The Malealea lodge was quaint and picturesque, home to many foreigners and tourists. The buildings were painted in a mural-style décor, and souvenirs were available in several different locations. It was an overall enjoyable morning/afternoon, and I was very glad that I spent the 200 rand for the trek.
7/11/10: We come from the land of plenty
There was a man standing in front of me today waiting to pay for his goods. He was dressed in several layers (the Basothos seem to handle cold weather even worse than I do!) including a frayed tweed overcoat. It was ripped at nearly every seem and looked like it may fall off of him at any moment his hat was weathered and dingy, a garment I never would have used in the condition that his was in. when it was his turn to pay, he delicately opened a tan leather wallet, unbuttoned the outer compartment, and carefully counted out a few Maluti coins. His wallet was empty except for what was the equivalent of maybe three dollars; every credit card slot was empty, and the billfold was bare.
I have seen extremely impoverished people living on dirt floors in both Nicaragua and here in Lesotho, but seeing this man gingerly count a few Maluti suddenly depressed me. My wallet at home is often overstuffed with credit and debit cards, old receipts, single bills (I am a college student, after all!), and tons of odd change. The radical difference between his attenuated pocketbook and my swollen wallet struck me for some reason, and I was again blindingly aware of how different my life is in America compared to the average life in Lesotho. Their luxuries are my “necessities”, and their “good” standards of living are humble at best for me. Seeing such obvious differences in the way that people live around the world simply seems unfair. Unfortunately, “Life isn’t fair”.