If you want i'll send you a postcard... to let you know im here. I 'll be sure to fill it with imagery, and i'll be sure to be sincere.
You know, I was a little apprehensive about starting this whole bloggerific idae because a) it ranks up there with carrying around a mini-mirror in terms of vanity and b) i get no love on this thing. It feels like I am expressing myself into the abyss of cold-hearted technology and it would be nice to get a little e-hug.
So, new conditions with the blog. If you read this bad-boy you MUST under ALL conditions leave me
a) a limerick
b) ten things to quicken the heart
or...
c) it must spur you on to write me an actual letter.
So, even if you are a creepo who is reading this, and I have no clue who you are, you must follow those rules. Because they rule.
So, I am in Maseru again, so quickly after my last visit because I had a meeting in town about this group called Literacy in Lesotho, which basically wants to get books in the hands of kids under the age of three. Its an interesting organization and the meeting really showed the differences in the American culture, who typically hold the belief that any meeting can be conducted within two hours, with concrete results. Well, welcome to Lesotho. Different expectations, different realities. It made it perfectly clear why I am signed on for two years, instead of a quickie, come let me start something and leave. (which is not what this lady is doing... but just for examples sake.) While yes, I am frustrated at my job, yes I dont really feel like I am accomplishing anything, and no I dont really have a focus right now, its nice to have the time to get adjusted. Because if there is one thing I have realized is that it takes me a LONG TIME to get adjusted to new situations... aka college, camp... etc. Well, not Space Camp. I loved Space Camp.
Anyways. Its been a long week. Well... what day is it? Its been a long two weeks. Last week when I got home and got a text message from my principal saying that my family had doubled my rent, and that i should go look at my new house. So I said, ok sure, what more could really change, I will just roll with this one. So some little boy walks me to my new house, which is across the street, and is approximatly half the size, with no real windows for light (when you dont have electricity, windows are a hot commodity), and the door had a lovely view of a cement wall. But I was in no mood to complain, and usually when things are handed to me such as this they tend to work out regardless. So I went into town out of habitual avoidance, and ran into a Canadian volunteer who has been staying in town for the past four months. And he just happened to be leaving this coming Friday so my heart started palpatating (atrocious spelling... go figure) and I rushed over to the primary school where the m'e who owns the house teaches, and pleaded my case. Didn't really need much pleading because I had done a workshop about a month ago that she attended and left an "anonymous" note to us saying "oh, you all are such good girls. Such good girls, oh. Thank you." I was a little nervous because a while back I had a little situation at the bank where they tried to charge me 45 rand because their f'ing machine had eaten my card, and i got a little heated with the teller. After my rant, which was probably amplified by my emotionally explosive nature, I turned around and saw two of my teachers staring at me, and M'e Julia (my future "landlord") laughing. She told me that i was "so strong. wow. you were really strong back there. Man. Strong." So, yeah, i was a little worried that she didnt want a basket case whitey living in her rondavel, but luckily her judgement is a little blurry. So I was so excited about this move, because it opens doors for me to work at other schools, and at the hospital, to have cell phone service, to be able to walk to rebecca's just to say hey, sing her a song, and then go home... so many pro's that i forget the con's. But of course this is Lesotho and I am now officially an adult (when did that happen and can i make it stop) nothing is ever as easy as it seems. So I get the approval of my principal and Peace Corps, and then go to Katse for the weekend to visit Madeline at her new house. All in all, a blissful weekend with a bathtub and 6 episodes of Arrested Development, and lots of spontaneous compustion in the form of guffaws. When I get back home, Caswel (yes kay, your BFF) comes to my house and tells me that my family has been asking why I am crying, and why I am not paying the rent, and if I am going to sneak out without paying the rent, and why the little boy was hiding by the river to take away my things to town... etc. Random thought after random thought. So apparently no one had told my family that I was moving, let alone what the situation was. So, anxiety. Because I was told NOT to tell my family, that my principal would handle it, and that I should move my stuff out little by little as not to alarm my family. Which of course should have raised about 3,000 ruby flags but i was so excited about moving i didnt really think about it. And my family speaks about negative zero english, so i couldnt clarify anything. So i walk into town to talk to my supervisor and she is not there, so one of my teachers helps me, and tells me story after story about how i need to get out of my village immediatly, i need to move to town, ive done the whole "wash your clothes in the river, bucket on the head thing" and its time to move on.
I agree. Long story made really super long, i spent the day en route from principal to the Chief to home, to Becca's to the Chiefs, then back home and still nothing was really resolved. I dont know who to trust anymore because I know my family is amazing but I just cant communicate with them. So automatically I trust the people who speak english which isnt always my best bet.
Zut alors. Someone has sat on my bagel.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
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