<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511</id><updated>2012-04-15T15:47:02.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Same Side of the Moon: Lesotho to Oregon</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>42</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-337057443273939535</id><published>2010-12-06T10:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T11:31:50.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Memory 1: Training Village</title><content type='html'>So I have not done as promised but have been intending to write this blog since the last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/TP03JcgOfFI/AAAAAAAACWA/s1JibYaEsiY/s1600/033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 231px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547650951400029266" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/TP03JcgOfFI/AAAAAAAACWA/s1JibYaEsiY/s200/033.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am skipping staging in Philly, the plane ride, meeting everyone, and the couple days at the training center in Maseru because we didn't really get to know each other then. Sure, we had lots of forced bonding time and knew almost everyone's names but we didn't know each other as people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to start with travelling to our training villages. We had gone shopping for "basic essentials" most of which Peace Corps had already purchased for us. This meant a plate, bowl, glass, and set of silverware, maybe a couple knives. We didn't have to buy food yet because for the first week all meals were going to be provided by our host family. A majority of us still got some granola bars and treats to stash just in case. Sunday morning, two days after landing in the country, we got onto buses and separated from a group of 23 into 3 training villages.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/TP05jOYXzMI/AAAAAAAACWQ/ijGhnNL7QhE/s1600/sunset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 242px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 175px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547653593308843202" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/TP05jOYXzMI/AAAAAAAACWQ/ijGhnNL7QhE/s200/sunset.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived at Hasoole with Megan, Kelly, Tom, Lorriane, Oscar, Merrill, and Barb. a couple people were already close but none of us were close enough to support each other in what was to follow when we got off the bus. We were told to expect singing and lots of screaming. Instead our village was in mourning. Someone had passed away and so singing and celebrating next to the body (which was in a hut about 10 feet away from us) was not allowed. They sang one more solemn song as they lined us volunteers up facing a line of Bo'me (mothers/women). They read our names from the list and we had to step forward to greet our new mother with an awkward hug. The village had been instructed to speak only Sesotho to us so immediately my 'Me starts jabbering at me. I just stood there with my pack on holding my pee bucket looking totally lost. A quick glance around me showed everyone else doing the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was an uncomfortable walk the 20 yards to our home. I didn't notice until the next day that Oscar was in a hut just a few feet away. My siblings informed me that 'Me was telling my my name was Katleho Mofoti and she was 'Me Mamotephu Mofoti (both names and those of my siblings it took me until training was almost finished to memorize. They opened my hut door, i went in, they closed it. I was alone. Very alone. More alone than any sane person should be able to stand. But we all made it through that first night. It was uncomfortable when I realized that the family had to eat in my room because they had put the one table in the house in my room. So I sat in total silence eating a meal which then I could barely swallow but would come to be my favorite food at the end of two years. Rice, fried chicken, moroho (cabbage), mokopu (squash), a type of chakalaka which is beans and mayonnaise that I never learned to enjoy. The kids departed my room with their licked clean bowls and my half eaten plate which made me feel horrible until I saw them sharing what was left once outside my door.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 393px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547650572888108514" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/TP02zab87eI/AAAAAAAACV4/KG1pMyrCmcs/s200/032.jpg" /&gt; I woke in the morning to everything covered in frost. It was like a layer of shiny silver had been placed on every surface to tell me it would all be bright and okay. Getting routine of bathing and eating in time to go to school (my 'Me was instant I not be late but also had a difficult time following my schedule) was very difficult. I was still ready about 10 minutes before Oscar came out of his house. My siblings were to walk us to school together that first morning. a routine which stuck all 10 weeks of training. It was the first true realization of where we were. Frost was everywhere and I was freezing so had snuck thermals and pants under my required skirt. Hiking boots, all 3 of my long sleeved shirts, my Columbia jacket, scarf, earmuffs, and gloves completed my outfit. The kids who accompanied us wore sandals or Mary Jane's without socks, short skirts, a t shirt or long sleeved shirt, and a ragged blanket wrapped around their shoulders. I was amazed that Peace Corps really put us into the real Lesotho just a few days into our training. It was eye opening and proved to be invaluable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started our walk and picked up Merrill first then the others at various locations. Me and Oscar lived the farthest away from the school and the trip took an average of 30 minutes either way. Barb lived just next to the school so we met her there. I don't remember that first day of school much except we sat huddled around a heater trying to learn yet again the Lesotho national anthem and spent most of the day in Sesotho Lessons. Really what sticks most with me from that first day and night was the realization just how long two years really is (since that first night was an eternity two years was unfathomable) and just how difficult it was going to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-337057443273939535?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/337057443273939535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=337057443273939535' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/337057443273939535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/337057443273939535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2010/12/memory-1-training-village.html' title='Memory 1: Training Village'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/TP03JcgOfFI/AAAAAAAACWA/s1JibYaEsiY/s72-c/033.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-8192625410556129034</id><published>2010-10-09T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-09T09:02:02.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in the US of A</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I have now been back in America for 3 days. I arrived home Tuesday the 5th of October after about 50 hours of travel including a 16 hour flight over the North Pole from Dubai to LAX. I am still way off schedule and continue waking up at 3 am every morning. Besides the strange sleep patterns, coming home has been a lot easier than I anticipated. I think this comes from me trying to act as normal as possible, like the old me. I have a feeling this is going to come back and bite me in the ass thought. I have almost been feeling like the last two years didn't happen. I have heard other volunteers say this but always thought "well that's silly, how can something this major feel like a blip?" I have a theory though... I think it stems from all the stress and everything associated with coming home; fears, anxiety, expectations, etc. So when us returning volunteers actually get here our brains are pudding that can't and won't process more than the present moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 368px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 254px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526077034537274770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/TLCRyNUJzZI/AAAAAAAACVc/iteiJj7wcv0/s200/IMG_0661%5B1%5D.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also realized that I have, due to lack of decent Internet connections, posted far too few stories of my service. My pledge is to post one new story a week as i read through my journals from site. This pledge serves two purposes. 1) It gives people more stories from my service and 2) It might help me process and remember just how important my time in Lesotho was to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, keep checking in for new posts and new stories.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-8192625410556129034?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/8192625410556129034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=8192625410556129034' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/8192625410556129034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/8192625410556129034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2010/10/back-in-us-of.html' title='Back in the US of A'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/TLCRyNUJzZI/AAAAAAAACVc/iteiJj7wcv0/s72-c/IMG_0661%5B1%5D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-4208901972950436117</id><published>2010-06-22T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T00:18:13.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dog Gone</title><content type='html'>Leslie is my pall, my friend, my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sounding board&lt;/span&gt; when I'm sad.  When she was missing for two weeks my world was in shambles.  On &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tuesday&lt;/span&gt; she came to school, which she has been doing, but turned around when I yelled at her to go home (might have also been a rock involved).  She was sighted playing around my house at 2:30/3:00 that afternoon so when I got home at 3:30 and she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; there I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; that worried.  It &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; until Wednesday morning that I started to get worried.  It &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; until Thursday that I was freaked out and stressed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; keep Leslie on a leash during the day when I'm only at school.  She always stays by the shop, at my families with their dogs, or with the boys a couple houses away.  Everyone in my community knows this and keeps an eye out for her and generally loves her.  When news started to spread that she was missing it was so touching how they all rallied around me for support and to help keep an eye out for her.  For the whole week &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; the following week my brothers would go out into the town with her leash and look for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a guy who is the brother of my friend who is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;veterinarian&lt;/span&gt; and gives Leslie all her shots.  He likes me and is actually pretty annoying.  He loves dogs and he really "loves" me so I might have used him to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;help&lt;/span&gt; me look.  He got word on the following Wednesday that people had been seeing a dog meeting Leslie's description towards &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Khanyane&lt;/span&gt;.  On Saturday I spent 4 hours with him walking from my house to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Khanyane&lt;/span&gt;, through every village in between, calling her name.  We also stopped and the guy described her and gave out his number in case people found her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hit a huge field and a woman told us that she had just seen her with a herd boy.  We ran up a huge hill into the field, me crouching with my hat pulled low so they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; recognize me.  The kids and men in the fields told us they had been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;seeing&lt;/span&gt; her but we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; find her.  It was so emotionally and physically exhausting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night I was watching a movie and making tea with the family when I heard &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Hlapa&lt;/span&gt; start yelling.  I stepped &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;out to&lt;/span&gt; see who it was and there was the vet guy and a handicap man with my BABY!!!!!  It took everything I had not to start crying &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt;.  It also took 50 rand to pay the guy for bringing her back.  He said he "found" her in a village way over the hill, digging in a rubbish pile.  Sorry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Ntate&lt;/span&gt;, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;totally&lt;/span&gt; recognize him as a guy who walks his cattle through the village.  My guess is he got scared that word was spreading and the whitey was looking for her dog.  All the villagers were so supportive and wanting to help.  Nothing feels as special as when people are willing to help you.  It makes you feel like you have really become a part of their community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have my dog back.  She was filthy, covered in fleas, and her eyes were all red.  After a bath, a cuddle in from of the heater, and a dinner of milk and eggs she was feeling good as new.  She did have runny poo all over my floor but I was willing to let it slide for the one night.  I have found a company to ship her to the USA and until then I'm tying her and watching her like a hawk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-4208901972950436117?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/4208901972950436117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=4208901972950436117' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/4208901972950436117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/4208901972950436117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2010/06/dog-gone.html' title='Dog Gone'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-8857103461262318255</id><published>2010-06-22T23:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T23:58:42.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>World Cup Opening Ceremony- KE NAKO!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/TCGwZPdz6oI/AAAAAAAACPE/75Lypgx2-1g/s1600/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485859768808761986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 169px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 195px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/TCGwZPdz6oI/AAAAAAAACPE/75Lypgx2-1g/s200/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While lots of people were going to bars or to other peoples houses to watch the world cup I was sitting on my families couch and sharing the experience with them. I was lucky to see the opening ceremony because 30 minutes before it was supposed to start and in the middle of us baking a cake, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Marosa&lt;/span&gt; decided she had to go to town and get her hair washed and that I had to accompany her. I was pretty pushy and got us to avoid "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;basotho&lt;/span&gt; time" so we arrived at the house with a 2 minute countdown on the TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;M'e&lt;/span&gt; was working so for the ceremony it was just me and the kids. The second the ceremony was over a group of younger, 20-30's, neighbors came for the game. There was an electric energy and excitement in the room and it was fun to see how excited they all were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game started of pretty slow, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bafana&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bafana&lt;/span&gt; looking like kids compared to Mexico. The second half they really got their stuff together and looked like a pro team. Me and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Malekhula&lt;/span&gt; were yelling at the screen the whole game though because had they worked as a team and had follow through, BB could have had a bunch more goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never liked football before. Correction: I love American football but never got "soccer". Watching WC with the family, sharing their excitement, seeing how athletic (and hot!) the players are, and being a part of my family gave me a new appreciation for the sport. I don't think I really get the offsides rule still, no matter how many people explain it it still seems lame.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-8857103461262318255?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/8857103461262318255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=8857103461262318255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/8857103461262318255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/8857103461262318255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2010/06/world-cup-opening-ceremony.html' title='World Cup Opening Ceremony- KE NAKO!'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/TCGwZPdz6oI/AAAAAAAACPE/75Lypgx2-1g/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-8182811937260819568</id><published>2010-02-25T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T22:21:05.708-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Easy as Pie</title><content type='html'>February 6th, 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/S4dn9dn8zbI/AAAAAAAACEM/505mVNWlhlQ/s1600-h/100_1806+(Small).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442432980322405810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/S4dn9dn8zbI/AAAAAAAACEM/505mVNWlhlQ/s200/100_1806+(Small).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At about 10 am this morning (Sunday) Hlapa, the youngest abuti in my host family, came to my house for his weekend romp with Leslie. His whole face was covered in black/purple spots and he kept drinking a thick liquid out of an old plastic bottle. Turned out to be blackberries. Now, I am not a lover of any berries, but these were so big and smelt so nice that I told him to give me 5 minutes while I ran back inside to dress, grab a hat (was at least 30 degrees), and clean my bucket. Hlapa then hooked Leslie to her make-shift leash and said "up". Up it was. The bushes that had the most berries were, of course, at the top of the lower shelf of my mountian. Up we went. We were just past my house when out of no where two other village boys grabbed the leash with Hlapa and decided to join us. We got to the top, Leslie loved climbing, and started to pick. It was really difficult because of the slope we were on. My height gave me an advantage to get the berries all the little boys havent been able to reach. Their tiny size made them able to really get into the bushes though. I only wanted a few to make a pie with but the &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/S4doJBeAzdI/AAAAAAAACEU/w3bX3JpKAxc/s1600-h/100_1812+(Small).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442433178922962386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/S4doJBeAzdI/AAAAAAAACEU/w3bX3JpKAxc/s200/100_1812+(Small).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;boys were determined to fill the bucket. It was finally filled and we trooped back down to my lawn where they continued to play with the dog. Here were three little boys who could have spent their Sunday playing but instead took the lekhooa up the mountain to pick berries, I had to do something nice just because they werent expecting it. So, I invited them in and had them take off their shoes and I turned on "Indiana Jones 2". Hlapa has seen it a million times so was telling the other boys all that was going to happen during the talking parts. I proceeded to make a pie then freeze the rest of the berries. They thought I was totally weird, how do you COOK blackberries????? The end result was a little too sugary but they each devoured their piece and my host family received the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442432530425497874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/S4dnjRoKyRI/AAAAAAAACD8/eLB9-UZ9elk/s200/100_1809+(Small).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a simple Sunday but very enjoyable. Even though none of the boys spoke english, so they were all jabbering in Sesotho and me in English, we made eachother understand. Most of the villagers though I was insane to climb a mountain to pick the berries instead of just sending the boys. From it though I some good exercise, made 3 little boys who rarely get nice treats very happy, and got to bake a pie which I love doing. You don't have to be saving the world to be a Peace Corps volunteer. Sometimes its as easy as pie!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-8182811937260819568?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/8182811937260819568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=8182811937260819568' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/8182811937260819568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/8182811937260819568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2010/02/blackberry-pie.html' title='Easy as Pie'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/S4dn9dn8zbI/AAAAAAAACEM/505mVNWlhlQ/s72-c/100_1806+(Small).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-6085149900076915807</id><published>2010-02-25T06:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T06:58:56.634-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mt. Q(click) o q(click) olosing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/S4aO9SG1iiI/AAAAAAAACDc/VYTMU3S5r6o/s1600-h/P1230922.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442194383207500322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/S4aO9SG1iiI/AAAAAAAACDc/VYTMU3S5r6o/s200/P1230922.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I had another PCv at my house for a couple of days while they were in transit- not going to name names. I decided that I was feeling adventuresome so invited PCV to do something with me that I have been wanting to do for a very long time... climb Mt. Qoqolosing (pronounced "click"o"click"olosing)! Marosa and I went on a walk and shoed me the road to the mountian. Why, you might ask, has this been my desire for 2 years? This mountain is a perfectly conical and sticks up over the ledge ehind my house. When Marosa pointed out said road I asked if it was possible to walk to the mountain and back in one day, it looks really far. She was skeptical and said that maybe. Good enough for me. So, me and PCV headed out at about 7 am with full water, peanut butter sandwitches, and other supplies. Everyone thought we were crazy. It took us about 3 hours to get to the base of the cone. Two bontate decided to walk with us and were actually able to keep up, though it was hard, the entire up hill climb. Yep, 3 hours all up hill. We took a short break at the base after I got really excited about the most beautiful and fertil soil I have seen in the country and PCV got excited about a small stone quary. We encountered a little boy during our break who suprisingly didnt ask for our food. Instead, he very nicely asked us if he could have some water so I obliged. This silly mountain, we asked the bontate if there was a path and they said "some how yes" meaning no. The sides were steep and we had to stand at the bottom looking up, guessing which side to climb. it was a two person job, one above and one lower down the mountain, telling eachother which path might be best and each going totally different ways. It was an intense hour of trying to find a footing because if you slipped you would end up back at the bottom. Tippy top, not visable from the bottom, is a crown surrounded by an 8 ft. cliff. Super fun. veryone knows I'm not super athletic but everyone also knows that I want to do things on &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/S4aPlgoWAWI/AAAAAAAACDk/RTlcbMw_Pp4/s1600-h/P1230953.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442195074300903778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/S4aPlgoWAWI/AAAAAAAACDk/RTlcbMw_Pp4/s200/P1230953.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;my own. PCV totally got this and didnt do all the anoying, cheer leading, crap. I did it. On my own. I got to the top. Exhausted and bleeding!!!!! It was totally worth it though. The climb down was just as adventurous because the sideof the mountain was so steep that you could not see more than a few feet. PCV tried to climb most of the time. I slid on my ass. Bled some more when the grass impaled my palms. Bled even more when a rock fell on my foot. Walk home only took a couple hours so we were able to make it back around 2. It is a great feeling to climb a mountain and survive challenges others think I am not or have never been capable of. The reward is always worth the challenge. Now I drive into Hlotse and look up at Qoqolosing. Though I can't say the name, I have conquered it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-6085149900076915807?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/6085149900076915807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=6085149900076915807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/6085149900076915807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/6085149900076915807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2010/02/mt-qclick-o-qclick-olosing.html' title='Mt. Q(click) o q(click) olosing'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/S4aO9SG1iiI/AAAAAAAACDc/VYTMU3S5r6o/s72-c/P1230922.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-5210645288273706086</id><published>2010-02-01T00:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T00:28:20.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Once upon a time...</title><content type='html'>I haven’t written in a long time, I know. This blog goes back many moons, all the way to Thanksgiving. it would have more but I got to where it ends and my brain hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quick note... We had an all volunteer conference in January and it has led me to decide it's time for me to get a real, paying job or go back to school. So, looks like I will be home in Septmber&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Thanksgiving many of us went to Semongkong to stay at the lodge there. The bus ride is miserable. We got on at 9:30, the bus was ready to go around 11, and it was so full some people had to stand. I traded Al when there was only 45 minutes left of the ride so she could sit. The road is not paved for the last couple hours and the bus goes maybe 60 mph so you can imagine how easy it was to stay standing. We arrived and spent that first evening just hanging out. The next day was turkey day. It started out with a hike to the waterfall, totally awesome! Then we set of on another Donkey Pub Crawl. My Donkey, Peter Pan, was not as good as the last one, Tinkerbelle, but still a noble steed. It was fairly uneventful as far as pub crawls go. We headed back to the lodge at about 3 so that we could all shower and get dressed for the huge buffet the lodge had prepared for us. The menu is on the blog photos so I won’t go into detail. Suffice to say that that was the best meal I have had and probably will have in my Peace Corps service. Back home I could cram down 2 or 3 or 4 plates full of food. Our stomachs are not used to so much rich food, let alone so much food, and so I could barely finish the one. Nick was a total hero and made Starbucks coffee for us to drink with our pumpkin pie and ice-cream. Friday was very chill. I went for a walk by myself for a few hours just up and down the river. I sat with my feet in the water and read, wrote in my journal, and just thought. I ended up running into a few people on my way back so hung out with them for a while. Someone suggested a boat race with boats made out of natural/found material. Being easily entertained as we all are, we had a blast. Mine died in the rapids. Al had taken some (very brief) fly fishing lessons and showed Megan, Kevin, and I how. We probably should have had real lessons, not second hand, because I almost killed myself a few times when the fly came straight at my face. It was a great weekend with great food and great company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was then supposed to go to Bloom and see “New Moon” with various, un-named volunteers who cancelled on me. So, instead, straight from Semongkong I headed to Quting to visit Erin at her site, Mt. Moorosi. I went to visit and also to see what projects she was working on and how I could help. That week was probably the best one I have had in Lesotho thus far! I arrived Monday morning to find her busy at work at the chief’s office and with youth Club stuff. We went to visit her Youth Center and I was floored. It is a great space and I can’t wait to hear about how she uses it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday morning was looking nice and sunny so we put on swim clothes and headed to the river, about an hour hike, with her two dogs. Just after we arrived some clouds started rolling in and it got cold. We decided not to swim so instead climbed out on the sand bar which was a quick-sand bar and I got sunk up to my thigh. The walk back was long and it rained on us then got really sunny and hot so I took a nap and Erin went and played football.&lt;br /&gt;The next day we did some laundry. Her pump is so far that she does her laundry in the creek. I played in the pool above the rock she does laundry on and enjoyed the sun. It was a really quiet, beautiful spot to just chill. We then went into town and had a pitso (public meeting) and went to see her environmental project area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday I finally got to go see Julie’s site. That was intense though because she lives on top of a mountain which you have to climb straight up to it. Totally gorgeous being up there, looking out over the river valley, feeling on top of the world. I swear I lost 10 lbs from how much we climbed and walked that week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday morning started with a big meeting for the environment project. They want to start a co-op/natural plant/community garden with an arts center. I went to help because they had an environmental consultant and her organization has never done a project like this. It was great getting to use my knowledge and to talk to the consultant about something I am so passionate about. It really confirmed in my mind that I would like to do something like international consulting for env/agric. We then took off for HaMakoa to look at another project. It was a 3 hr bus ride, gravel road, through a river gorge. We didn’t know where to get off the bus, the driver ended up just kicking us off saying “I think this is where.” We had to have a herd boy walk us the rest of the way to the village, we were so not where we were supposed to get off yet. Thabang, Erin’s sangoma (traditional healer) friend saw us so came and met us. As we walked into village a group of children gathered and started singing. It was awkward, been a while since we got a greeting like that. We then entered Thabang’s families’ rondaval. Before I explain the rondaval let me just say that this village is remote! No electricity, no phone service, one latrine for the whole village, no one had a car, no shop. REMOTE! The hut was small with a dung floor that had flooded so was wet and smelled like… well… dung. The only window was blocked by a board and so there was no air circulation. The furniture was a chest, a single bed, and 3 chairs with a small single gas burner against the wall. The nkhono (g-ma), Thabang, and 3 grandchildren lived there plus whatever family was visiting. It was late but we still managed to visit a cave of the ancestors, a healing spring, the fishery project, and we made Thabang walk us all the way to the river. It was a long exhausting day so Erin and Thabang passed out. I couldn’t sleep with out the air circulation and it being so hot and the dung floor being damp and stinky. I really couldn’t sleep when a rat started to crawl in the far corner. Then I knew I would never sleep when the rat ran across the light coming in under the door and around my feet. I don’t know how to explain that I wasn’t uncomfortable or surprised through out the whole thing. It was surprisingly normal, I just couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t until the next day that I realized how strange of an experience it was had I only just arrived in the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started Saturday off busy with another pitso. We advised them on an eco-tourism project they were wanting and I started to explain that I could get them information on more sustainable farming practices. Overall we were received very well by the women. The men sat behind us, arrived late, and were not attentive. We then headed off for what we were told was a 2 hour “adventure” but ended up taking 4. We should have known! When we got back we could hardly walk or keep our eyes open. There was supposed to be a feast for the ancestors but it was cancelled. Unfortunately a few family members arrived without the memo. They decided to do an impromptu prayer session in the house with dancing and drums. It was intense to watch but we kept falling asleep. Thabang finally asked if we could have another place to stay because we were not going to make it until 3 am, when they planned to stop. We got to stay in the richest house in the village, with a double bed! There was a curtain in the house and we didn’t know what it was for until we had been laying down a few minutes and an old ntate stumbled through it and out the door. We were freaked because he didn’t know two makhooa were sleeping in his house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning was sad. We had had an amazing, once in a lifetime experience and now had to leave. I’m really hoping to make it back in August, before planting begins, and help with the agriculture. We got onto the bus around 7:30 am and both slept the whole way back to village where we crashed and took another nap. We were then “crazy people” and went to the creek to do laundry and also bathe. The bathing was the crazy part to the locals but it felt so nice to get off the travel grime and wet dung floor smell off our bodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I headed back home Monday morning, but not alone… Friday morning I met Leslie and instantly fell in love. She was a puppy at the chief’s house who decided to attach herself to me. Her cute little face and fat, wormy belly made me know I had to have her. I was also planning on staying a 3rd year at that time and decided I needed a friend to share the time with. I spent the whole weekend debating whether or not to take her. Monday morning, when she ran to me and I found out she was free it was decided. She slept the whole way on my lap and we got the front seat in all our taxis so I was able to avoid a lot of attention. It took a while to get rid of her worms and her mites (once all her hair fell out) but having her at home makes everything a little easier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-5210645288273706086?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/5210645288273706086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=5210645288273706086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/5210645288273706086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/5210645288273706086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2010/02/once-upon-time.html' title='Once upon a time...'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-4392875039709552524</id><published>2009-10-22T05:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T06:07:48.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes ya feel like a nut</title><content type='html'>Sometimes ya don't.  I just noticed that there is a hole in the crotch of my jeans, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;grrr&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Alright&lt;/span&gt;, its been a long time since I wrote on here.  It has been a pretty good couple of weeks/month/whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring is finally here!  We had a couple weeks of rain one day, blue skies the next, rain, blue rain, blue.  This week blue won the battle.  The weather has gone along with the fact that one moment I will have a million things to do and another nothing.  We had re-connect, where my whole group got back together for a one-year mark training.  Crazy how much we have all changed and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; crazy being all back in one spot together.  Good times.  Then had work.  Not like usual work. I mean, wow, I actually have work to do.  But I'm a Peace Corps volunteer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The library is at mostly functioning capacity which is awesome and its not just a matter of getting all the little details arranged.  I read books from the "Red Ribbon" series to my classes and they were so excited.  We read "Head in the Sand" about an Ostrich teenager who has to discover a new danger that is killing his friends.  The kids loved it and totally got the emotions and interactions but the mental leap from quicksand to HIV was tough.  I also used the library with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;GRO&lt;/span&gt; club, thinking they would love library time like all the other students are begging me.  Because the club is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;career&lt;/span&gt; oriented I decided to read a Dr. Seuss book called "Who are you Sue &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Snue&lt;/span&gt;?"  All about what you want to be when you grow up and just being true to yourself. Realized that tho a simple story the random addition of her very long full name was a distraction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a bunch of other little (some big) projects started it was a month of  meetings and randomness.  It takes a lot of mental energy to do one thing for 5 minutes then switch to a totally different thing.  It &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; all work though.  One day a baby lamb was born almost literally on my door step.  The next day I did my laundry, then sat in my new camp chair watching the bright rainbow on the clothes line flutter in the wind for a few hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the last three days I have been at a workshop for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;OneLove&lt;/span&gt;/C-Change &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;mentorship&lt;/span&gt; program.  I took KB, the deputy principal who is also the director of the drama group I'm helping.  They split the group into "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt;" and "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Sesotho&lt;/span&gt;" groups for some of the sessions.  Luckily a few &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Basotho&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Bontate&lt;/span&gt; stayed with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt;.  That way when we did the "Sexual Hot Spots" session we got a good cross-cultural discussion.  Erin and I drank way too much coffee (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Ricoffee&lt;/span&gt;, not real coffee) so were bouncing all over and talking way too much.  The workshop ended a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;stressful&lt;/span&gt; because we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; realized the extent of work and the expectations of us until the end.  It all came together though and in the last few hours Ba&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;sotho&lt;/span&gt; and Americans were sharing well.  Language barriers taken into consideration. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now back in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;MSU&lt;/span&gt;, had a meeting today with the new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;CHED&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;APCD&lt;/span&gt;/acting CD.  Just gave him a quick run down of all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;craziness&lt;/span&gt; at site and what to expect.  Also just talked.  It was good, welcome to this crazy country Charles!  Sad saying goodbye to some friends while here, leaving &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;ED's&lt;/span&gt; and another special person.  Intense. PC has aged me (esp my hands and feet) and given me a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;permanently&lt;/span&gt; mushy brain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-4392875039709552524?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/4392875039709552524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=4392875039709552524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/4392875039709552524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/4392875039709552524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/10/sometimes-ya-feel-like-nut.html' title='Sometimes ya feel like a nut'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-4032911075457462638</id><published>2009-09-13T02:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T02:50:25.735-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Skills for them and me</title><content type='html'>This week was so wonderful in the classroom.  It is so much fun seeing the kids totally comfortable with me and enjoying our classes together.  When we are doing the "boring" topics such as communication or goal setting they like to talk and play and not pay attention.  Last Friday when I announced we would be starting sex and HIV they all cheered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday Oscar came down to help me out.  I wanted to give the students a chance to ask any questions they might have before beginning the sessions in a more comfortable space.  So, Monday, Oscar took the boys and I took the girls and we sat in the field with pens and flip chart paper.  I can only personally speak for the girls (especially my wonderful B3's) on how involved and interested they were.  According to Os the boys were just as cooperative.  Sometimes I wanted to laugh at their questions and ideas but was able to keep it comfortable and be respectful.  We were all so involved in the first lesson that none of us noticed that our 40 minutes (not enough time for any lesson) was over and we actually ended up going through the next class and into lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually the teacher in the other class will kick you out or tell you to give them their class.  It is an unwritten rule, especially since teacher attendance is weak at best, that if a teacher doesn't come and kick you out and you are not finished with your lesson you can take it.  Well... turns out that the class after mine is the teacher who is not my biggest fan.  Also turns out that he went into the class the next day and told them how horrible they are and how he is never coming back to that room blah, blah, blah.  Now I face a dilemma.  The students are all wanting to take the blame and are saying it is their fault and will not let me convince them otherwise.  Do I be the bigger person and apologize even though he wont listen and it wont do any good (probably will just inflate his ego even more) or do I let it stand and stick with the schools unwritten protocol on conduct in this situation? This week I am going to man up and go apologize... but I'm not gonna like it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-4032911075457462638?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/4032911075457462638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=4032911075457462638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/4032911075457462638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/4032911075457462638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/09/life-skills-for-them-and-me.html' title='Life Skills for them and me'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-9134078288511446048</id><published>2009-09-04T23:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T01:34:48.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>killer cows vs. killer teachers</title><content type='html'>Getting back from Swazi and vaca was exhausting. I had so much work to do and so much to think about that I still don't feel totally settled back home. My thoughts of staying a third year keep changing day by day and I am never sure anymore. When you have a week where you get run-down by a cow, have minor successes at work, then your teachers threaten to lynch visitors... what do you do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SqIieFIKQCI/AAAAAAAABZI/kZ4f0_vc2eU/s1600-h/legs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377898805201616930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SqIieFIKQCI/AAAAAAAABZI/kZ4f0_vc2eU/s200/legs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On Wednesday of last week everything had been going holokile, no matata. On my way home from lunch though I faced a decision that ruined my week and my legs. I was standing about 5 ft away from a cow and his giant chain that were crossing my path. There was no way around and I knew that stepping over the chain that was a foot above the ground was a bad idea. Ntate cow got a mind of his own and decided to go CRAZY and ran a circle around me, catching my shins just below my knee with his chain. I literally flew through the air and landed a few feet from where I was standing. The bo'Me at the shop were laughing and screaming simultaneously so I jumped up to pretend I was fine. Got to school and my legs didn't look so bad so i figured I was lucky. Next day I woke up to black and blue legs, a gash where the chain caught me, and my entire body from the waist down was sore. It took until today for me to be able to walk with no pain but I still have delicious yellow and blue bruises that look awesome on my pasty, pasty skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small successes were there and make each day a little more bearable at work. The library is coming around awesome and it is great to see the kids' faces when I let them borrow books for helping me. Ntate Phoole is being surprisingly cooperative and really making things go at a decent pace. Hopefully we can have it totally open and running in a month (if we can find a librarian). Only thing that really I am not sure whether it is good or bad is that there was a super secret interview session for a new farm manager that the Principal neglected to tell me or the current farm manager about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came this last Thursday. For the library it is necessary to have a workshop for all the teachers that is put on by two PC representatives for the organization who organizes the books. My teachers were in fine form. They started off by flat out refusing to move their chairs and by the end the disrespect had escalated to people just walking out as loudly as possible and sleeping! I was shocked that the people I spend everyday with could treat visitors and also my friends in such a manor. The things they were doing were not acceptable in any culture and made me wonder "What is it that really needs to be accomplished here?" . The next day at staff meeting I expressed my displeasure and asked them to next time have more respect not just for our visitors, no matter who they are, but also more respect for themselves and the school. I sincerely hope that it will change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SqIdcssTAuI/AAAAAAAABZA/K8x7gxEJ9qE/s1600-h/100_0808.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377893283904291554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 145px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SqIdcssTAuI/AAAAAAAABZA/K8x7gxEJ9qE/s200/100_0808.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, after those bad days, I go home. I sit in front of my house in the hot sun reading a book. I play a little with Nkoebe. Make some tempura green-beans and hot cocoa. And head over to the families house where I sit in the bedroom with the whole family because Nkhono cant get out of bed and Hlapa is in there with the flu. We talk, joke, play, laugh, share stories, Nkhono sings and prays (a lot). It is peaceful and beautiful. We then move to the living room for tea and Rhythm City. it's at those times of total calm and happiness that I really can reflect on more than just the work I do and the people who make life here a total challenge. There are also those moments that i would never, ever trade for anything in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I really get it across what goes on in my head each day? I can't. You only know if you have lived it. How can some people be so open to making a change in their lives and others can't see past tomorrow? How do you stay sane when some people want you to fail? Really... I'd rather take the killer cow. At least next time I can throw a rock at him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-9134078288511446048?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/9134078288511446048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=9134078288511446048' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/9134078288511446048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/9134078288511446048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/09/killer-cows-vs-killer-teachers.html' title='killer cows vs. killer teachers'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SqIieFIKQCI/AAAAAAAABZI/kZ4f0_vc2eU/s72-c/legs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-7964809150713629411</id><published>2009-08-23T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T00:35:01.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HWFFH- Swaziland</title><content type='html'>I thought the last post was getting too long so I decided to break our trip into two parts. Here begins the true adventure on my side- escape from Lesotho.  I have not had a vacation and have been in Lesotho since January so this part of the trip was way cooler for me.  Swaziland was the perfect cure for some Lesotho sized cabin fever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday was the start.  We headed out at 9 and gave my host 'Me a lift to Ficks.  The tone of our travels was set early on with us really not sure what road we were on or what direction we were headed.  Our journey to Swazi took us from 9 to 6:30 and involved a couple wrong turns, no McDonald's, a cool roadside shop, long dirt roads, pot holes, and near misses with cows.  We did arrive safe and in time for a yummy chicken stew dinner at the Backpackers.  Unfortunately it was just getting dark so we weren't able to see much on the way in.  We stayed 5 nights at Sondzela Backpackers on the Milwane Wildlife Reserve.  Totally chill and totally gorgeous.  Jo went to bed because she had been driving all day but me and E, try as we might, could not sleep so went down and hung out with Australian, Brazilian, English guys and two English girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next morn we were starving so went to town to buy some food to sustain us through the trip.  Once back at the BP we decided to go for a hike on the Hippo Trail (2.5 hrs according to map).  Starting hiking around 11 in Africa is not the best idea.... it got pretty hot by 2 when we finished.  The actual hike on the trail only took us maybe 1.45 hours but we did get lost before even starting then had to hike up and down the side of a mountain looking for the trail.  It was a fun hike with just enough hills to keep it a challenge.  Looked for Hippos in the Hippo pond next to the main camp but there were none so we headed back to the BP to relax.  Had dinner there, took quick and adventurous showers (Jo and E get it) then went to main camp for some traditional Swazi dancing.  On the shuttle bus back to the BP we met a cool Brit who had just got there with his two friends.  Those three were the male equivalents off us so were our drinking buddies for the rest of the trip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday we went on a SAFARI!  The previous day we booked with Mkhaya Park and left at 7:30 to make it across the country by 10.  I got kicked out of navigator because I was too chill about the directions.  My crazy African ways of "we will see what happens" didn't fly with two American friends.  We did get there though, and an hour early.  the first ride was from 10:30 to 1 and we were able to see rhinos, zebras, giraffes, hippos, and a bunch of the deer like animals.  There was a water buffalo behind a tree that I barely glimpsed but hey, it was there.  The rhinos were what we saw first and our guide had us get out of the truck which was already maybe 50 yards from them and walk up until we were only maybe 20 yards away!  Lunch was included so that was from 1 to 2.  All the other people in our group were staying the night so had a later second trip.  This meant that Jo, E, and I were alone from 2 to 4 on a private safari.  We saw Elephants and more of the same we saw earlier.  We were all exhausted but not in a bed mood so watched the guys play extreme pool and ping pong which meant that the three of them and the local bar tender got onto each others shoulders to shoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday was shopping day so we went to Swazi candles and craft center then into town to go to a market.  We had gone to the market for a few minutes on Tuesday and Erica had to explain the rules of bargaining so that by the end of the day on Thursday I was a semi-pro and got some totally sweet deals.  Headed back to the BP, again, and we thought the guys were leaving but they were still there. We all headed to a local bar that I was told was cool all the time but no one was there and the cool part was closed until September.  Citi-sport safari with 6 people in a tiny car, two of whom are over 6 ft!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, last day in Swazi, we wanted to find the mineral hot springs the guys had found the day before.  found them... not hot and the warning signs of crocs deterred us from getting in.  We headed out to Swazi glass down by the border and did a little more shopping.  We were lucky this day.  On our safari we saw the hippos from really far away (Thanks mom and dad for the binocs!) and I was disappointed because we had not seen them up close at Milwane.  As we were looking for a spot to swim a group of 5 year old school children came running up to the hippo pond (note: we were not going to swim in hippo pond but at the pool) as we were looking at it.  We wanted to avoid the mass of children so started walking away but a ranger who had been there everyday and knew our disappointment stopped us and told us "STOP, I call hippos, they come!" So we stood there, in the middle of 30 kids ooh-ing and aw-ing at the hippos 30 ft from us.  Got to bed early for the long ride the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was the last leg of our journey: a drive from Swazi to Jo'Berg.  It was trying.  We were all tired and it had been a long two weeks.  With no clearly marked roads and a map with giant Budget Car signs stamped all over it it was a long trip from 7:30 to 3.  We did finally find me McDonald's and we had it for lunch and dinner.  Not as good as I was expecting after a year of not having it.  Spent the evening with a cool girl from Texas watching 70's music videos on VH1, PS I Love You, and Taladega Nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then yesterday we had a lazy morning watching something on TV until 11 when we had to drive me to the airport.  Jo and E walked me in, helped me get my boarding pass, and walked me to security.  At security I was going to start to cry so I hugged them that ran through the gate.  This began one more year of only PCV's and Expats.  got to the training Center and PC had overbooked so almost didn't have a bed and didn't have a chance to let my brain relax after a stressful but very fun two weeks.  I was exhausted but being around 30 other people makes it hard to just have a break.  Today I finally get to go home and just plop, hopefully not think about Jo and E being gone and not seeing them for another year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-7964809150713629411?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/7964809150713629411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=7964809150713629411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/7964809150713629411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/7964809150713629411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/08/hwffh-swaziland.html' title='HWFFH- Swaziland'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-7709321728624970203</id><published>2009-08-23T23:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T23:45:35.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday With Peope From Home- Lesotho</title><content type='html'>Yesterday me and my two very good friends, Jolene and Erica, went in different directions at the airport.  Them for America and me back to Lesotho after a two week visit.  it was so much fun getting to see them and remember some of the person I was but it was also hard seeing how much I have changed.  We had a very chill week in Lesotho so that they could get an idea of life here then we headed to Swaziland (for those who don't know- it's a country) for a real vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day one started off rough for me.  I came into Maseru on Monday to get all my ducks in a row for Jo and E's arrival.  I managed to organize  transport to the Airport through the local hotel for R70.  I arrived Tuesday morning at 9:30 as instructed and the 'Me told me the typical "he is coming" in regards to my ride.  At 9:45 and 10 i was told the same thing.  My friends flight was coming in at 10:45....  At 10:15 I finally told the "me to call the driver.  Turns out he was already at the airport and had forgotten me!  I ran back to the PC office where I had just missed a car going to the airport.  had I known about that car none of the stress would have been necessary.  Instead i go into one of the women who works here's office and started crying so her and another woman frantically looked through their files saying "we will get you there, you will see!".  I had to take a private taxi for a pricey R100 and the plane flew over head when we were about half way to our destination.  Luckily all the screening took a while so I was able to be waiting outside the gate when they came out.  We hugged, laughed, Jo gave me the long awaited peanut butter balls, and we departed in our rental car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, nothing can be easy here.  Jo's luggage did not arrive on the flight so I got permission for Jo and E to stay at the training center with all the PCV's.  It was fun for them to see how we all interact and spend our "transit" time.  the luggage did arrive on time the following day and we left for Leribe, my home.  On the way we stopped at the weavers in TY and looked at their things.   Once in Hlotse we dropped our stuff off at my house then headed to school.  I just checked in and then we were off to town for grocery shopping.  We had a nice walk and as soon as we got home I made us some curry for dinner.  The next day was pretty chill, we just went to school and they got to see me in action in class.  That night Trish came over for lentil burgers and a hang session.  Friday was more school in the morning and then I talked Jo and E into going to Ficks for a nice lunch at the Bottling Company.  With delicious food and a couple beers in our bellies we headed back to my place.  We finished the day by playing with my neighbor babies whom Jo and E became very attached to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend was very eventful and consisted of one very good day and one very bad day.  Saturday morning, early, we went to town and purchased the makings for a traditional Basotho meal.  My family was to help us prepare it.  We started cooking at 11 i think and with Mpoetsi's help were able to make  a delicious meal of papa, moroho (cabbage), mokopu (squash), and chicken.  It was awesome and the family totally loved it.  Jo got to bond with Kali because he wants to be a civil engineer and Mpoetsi loved Erica.  Sunday I thought we would take a ride to Katse Dam.  Not one of my better ideas I guess.  I figured if a taxi could make it over the pass then so could we.  At the top we had to stop and take a chill break because climbing straight up to 3500 meters is scary.  The other side of  the pass is down, not quite as bad as the up, but it was decided when we were not too far from Katse that enough was enough and it was best to just turn around.  We made it back up and over in one piece but nerves were rattled so I suggested pizza and beer at the hotel instead of climbing my mountain on foot.  This was agreed to and we ordered our pizza at 1:30.  At 2:30 they asked if we still wanted the pizza, then again at 3, at 3:30 they asked us what kind of pizza we had ordered, and at 4 Jolene asked if our pizza was ready.  no, it wasn't but they brought it too us anyways.  What can I say?  They had a relatively easy week  and needed one typical day in Lesotho. We ended our last day by again playing with all the babies then made more no-bake cookies and had a silly night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-7709321728624970203?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/7709321728624970203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=7709321728624970203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/7709321728624970203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/7709321728624970203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/08/holiday-with-peope-from-home-lesotho.html' title='Holiday With Peope From Home- Lesotho'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-8421595771525832752</id><published>2009-08-05T23:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T23:56:07.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From down to UP UP UP</title><content type='html'>Yes; that week of the workshop was hell, torture, and pure suffering.  But after monday of last week, which is outlined in the previous blog, it all got better and made me remember why I am thinking of extending a 3rd year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because me and Marco were not communicating well on Monday we made an appointment for Tuesday.  We spent the whole morning mapping out a plan for what to plant where and also how to fix the greenhouses.  We really had a good session where we discussed our expectations of each other.  He has so much potential to really be good at his job. Wednesday was day one of initiation of plan.  We got to work at 10 and went straight to the GH and weeded the floor so that it is bare dirt.  Okay, I weeded and Marco watched.  Still, it was so much fun getting to play in the dirt again.  After finishing the floor we moved on to dismantling the planting benches.  As a girl it was discussed whether or not I was strong enough to bend wire.  In the end I won and ended up having to show them how to take apart the benches so that it was still possible to put them back together.  Thursday I went to work expecting More of the same.  Instead they had a thrasher in front of the school and were moving bags of corn to it to remove the kernels from the cobs.  This day I remembered my gorgeous hot pink work gloves so busted them out and started hauling the 50 kg bags.  I thought my principal was going to have a heart attack!  He had just got done telling me that I should have hired people to do the work in the GH and here I was hauling corn!!!!  O man.  Marco talked me up so much to the other guys that they ended up letting me change out the bags being filled with kernels.  I had to take open the shafts, yank down the 50 kg bag, and throw up another sack before running the filled bag to a giant pile with the help of a student.  We ended up hauling 38 bags!  After lunch we finished tearing up the GH and got a few wires put back into place.  And finally Friday morning we finished getting the benches back to beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend was uneventful.  Tuesday saw me in Maseru to welcome the trainees as real volunteers!!!  Welcome CHED 2009.  Their swearing in was a blast and it was great getting to party with them before they all disembark on their individual adventures.  Can't wait to see how they change in a few months. hehehe.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new leads on huge new projects- maybe a third year wouldnt be so crazy???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-8421595771525832752?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/8421595771525832752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=8421595771525832752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/8421595771525832752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/8421595771525832752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/08/from-down-to-up-up-up.html' title='From down to UP UP UP'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-3173538847399439365</id><published>2009-08-04T23:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T00:24:00.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mental Photos- July 27th</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SnkpopIbNFI/AAAAAAAABWo/FbHqbalElaM/s1600-h/july+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366366209201353810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SnkpopIbNFI/AAAAAAAABWo/FbHqbalElaM/s200/july+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sometimes it would be nice if there was someone following you around with a camera to catch those special moments in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I spent the whole morning at school waiting for Ntate Phoole to have time for a meeting with me. Most of the staff was there to collect pay stubs so I was lucky in that I was not bored. Also, I had a talk with Marco about the farm which wasn't pleasant so I wont go into details. At 1pm I got tired of waiting and had Ntate Class help me FINALLY, after 6 months of waiting, take my carpet to my house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Washing a 7 ft x 5 ft chunk of carpet by hand and bucket was an experience and a sight. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SnkqN_hIdbI/AAAAAAAABWw/Uk3BMc_J6kU/s1600-h/july+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366366850865722802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SnkqN_hIdbI/AAAAAAAABWw/Uk3BMc_J6kU/s200/july+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Especially with three 1-year old boys wanting to help. I had to walk bucket after bucket the 30 ft from my tap to where I was washing the carpet. Each trip I had to herd the three amigos with me or else they jumped onto the carpet with six grassy, muddy feet and imitated my scrubbing motion. After each bucket of water I had to scrub in the half box of surf, the other half had been dumped into the grass by the boys, with my feet while pushing the babies off with a broom. This turned out to be a game for them and every time I pushed one they all erupted into squeals. For the last couple buckets I recruited them to help and they each held onto the bucket handle and drug it to the tap for me. Mental photo- me holing one tiny hand leading 3 smiling, beautiful, very obnoxious boys dragging a bucket that is just as tall as they are. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a totally simple day (except the washing process) but it was one of those days, MAGIC. Writing it down does not capture the perfect afternoon lighting, my grungy washing clothes, the bo-M'e laughing at the whole thing while braiding each others hair. It was just a combination of a million perfect moments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-3173538847399439365?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/3173538847399439365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=3173538847399439365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/3173538847399439365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/3173538847399439365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/08/mental-photos-july-27th.html' title='Mental Photos- July 27th'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SnkpopIbNFI/AAAAAAAABWo/FbHqbalElaM/s72-c/july+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-5480244838098479496</id><published>2009-07-24T02:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T02:54:38.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Successes and Failures are One and the Same</title><content type='html'>This week I had my first big Peace Corps challenge. I planned, organized, and ran a workshop all on my own. The workshop used two facilitators from the Men as Partners program to do a workshop for secondary teachers in my area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the idea after watching the teachers at my school over the course of the last year. I have notices that, especially at school, it is hard for males and females to interact on a respectful and equal level. This is most obvious in the numerous sexual relationships between teachers and students. In America we would consider a lot of the interactions as sexual harassment. I wanted a workshop that helped teachers think about their roles in relationships; intimate, professional, and mentor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Men as Partners curriculum is perfect for this. It used a very open forum which encourages participants to talk through the ideas in order to come to their own conclusions. It addresses topics such as gender, sexuality, gender roles, stigma, and sexual harassment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the last two months I have been planning, budgeting, and going to the local schools one or two times a week to recruit participants. The last two weeks were especially busy purchasing everything and finalizing all the details. I had 20 teachers from 3 schools including the one I work at needing tea, biscuits, notebooks, pens, and lunch provided. I got really freaked the weekend before because the local facilitator went MIA. The day before my workshop I had to call and ask the MAP coordinator to find me another facilitator in case mine never showed. All in all, lots of planning and prep went into my first big event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First day started off slow. Really slow. A total of 4 people showed up and we got started around 11:30 instead of 9. The facilitators decided that they would cover the basic concepts. This would enable those who came to act as sort of co-facilitators the next day. I felt like day 1 was a total flop. Later that day Marco, the farm manager at my school who also attended the workshop, came to my house for a visit. He told me he was going right home to discuss what he had learned with his wife; the roles they play in their relationship and how they are partners. He also told me that the two teachers already got a great deal out of the workshop and could not wait to get to school to use the ideas and present them to their students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day two went much the same as day one. I had about 15 people promise me, once again, that they would be there for sure on Thursday. By 9:30 only one person had showed, by 10 another, then at 11 the other two. All four were the participants from the previous day. At this time the deputy principal and a teacher who came to have a meeting with him decided to join as well, making our total for day two six, including a female participant at last. Again, they got started around 11:30. When I went back in to deliver lunch I discovered that the numbers had increased by two. Another teacher and the principal of my school had joined. This brought finishing numbers up to 8 which made me feel a little better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first all I thought of was MY workshop. Until the end of the first day it was how “many people will come to MY first workshop?”, “where will I buy the lunch for MY workshop?” It wasn’t until the conversation with Marco on day one, when I was saying how upset I was that no one came, that I realized the truth. Marco told me “Katleho, it’s not about you.” He is right. Had THEIR workshop ended after day one it was anything but a failure. Who cares that I was freaking out about how many people were going to and did show? Does it matter that I had high expectations? No one and no it doesn’t. Four people walked away just after that first day with a seed planted into their heads and plans to spread it. This is infinitely more important than MY workshop having 20 people and running perfect. Really, my part was small and insignificant. It was the facilitators and the participants who did all the work and make THEIR workshop a success.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-5480244838098479496?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/5480244838098479496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=5480244838098479496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/5480244838098479496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/5480244838098479496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/07/successes-and-failures-are-one-and-same.html' title='Successes and Failures are One and the Same'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-7180924883872029973</id><published>2009-07-09T04:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T05:04:18.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mid-service medical</title><content type='html'>OOOOO scary! Half way through service we have to have a check up to make sure we aren't falling apart.  Good news, I'm not and its a super easy check up.  Bad news was that the filling on one tooth didn't hold up.  About six months ago I was eating phoone (toasted corn, similar to corn nuts) when I cracked and chipped a filling.  At midservice we have to do dental so I have just been holding out.  Everyone has said how quick and easy both medical and dental are.  Guess no one else had to get a filling replaced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was already a little skeptical about getting a filling in Africa.  Most people think a shack with no tools, etc.  It was actually a really nice office, dentist chair, all equipment, and an assistant.  First thing I told the dentist was that I need a filing fixed.  I have only ever had one dentist in my life, since I was born, and thought that all dentists would be pretty much the same.  Nope.  To fix my filling Ntate said he would have to give me Novocaine and drill the old one out.  He stuck the needle into my gums and moved it in a circular motion as he injected the drugs, PAIN!  He then cleaned my teeth while the Novocaine kicked in.  Once it did, boy did it kick.  He injected enough Novocaine to tranquilize a baby elephant.  My entire lower face and tongue went numb!!!  He kept telling me to open my mouth and I thought it was open and he had to tie my tongue down because I had no feeling in it.  It then took him an hour to drill and fill and ten (yes, I counted) attempts to get my bite level.  Done with the filling, he finished cleaning my teeth and flossed.  He got a chunk of floss stuck between two of my teeth and it hurt, the upper half of my mouth was obviously not as numb.  He tried to pick it out and finally yanked it out with another piece of floss.  DONE!  I left, not talking much the whole walk back to the office because I was drooling all over and couldn't use my tongue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at the office I decided to go to lunch with Lorriane.  I wasn't going to eat, just have some coffee.  I had her crying, she was laughing so hard, because I sounded handicapped and absolutely ridiculous talking.  The waitress had to have what I was saying translated by Lo when I ordered.  I then had to bend over and slurp my coffee out of the cup because I had already dropped water down the front of me at the dentists office trying to rinse.  Eventually my mouth started to function and I have since returned to the office, sounding normal, and am able to interact with other people without killing them with laughter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-7180924883872029973?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/7180924883872029973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=7180924883872029973' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/7180924883872029973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/7180924883872029973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/07/mid-service-medical.html' title='mid-service medical'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-5234003263568831575</id><published>2009-07-07T02:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T03:02:12.439-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whats in your lentil burgers?</title><content type='html'>This has been a crazy busy last few weeks which is quite a change from the norm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had training with the new volunteers, teaching them about gardening, am planning a workshop for the end of July, party party party's, and have a had a bunch of visitors.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For a few days two of the new volunteers that came in on June 5th visited my site. After a totally awesome Saturday of getting to know each other, we had a totally chill Sunday. I made us some chicken noodle soup and just hung out at my house. We stopped by my families house to &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SlMbcZDe1EI/AAAAAAAAA6o/xANvy7CpsjQ/s1600-h/apriljuly+060.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355654556449428546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SlMbcZDe1EI/AAAAAAAAA6o/xANvy7CpsjQ/s200/apriljuly+060.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;say hi and ended up having to stay and watch a totally creepy Cinderella movie and eat some nama and samp. My 'Me finally got to take off her mourning clothes so they were having a feast. Monday we went around town so that I could do some stuff for my workshop then we shopped all day in town. That night we made lentil burgers that were awesome!!! They didn't stay in a patty shape but me and the girls had a blast making them. Tuesday we got an almost early start (it was so cold we didn't get out of the house before 10 each day) and headed up Sebotoane Mountain. It has been a full year at site and I finally got up there. At the top me and the girls enjoyed a great view of all of Hlotse. At Joy to the World church there was band practice and we could hear the whole thing. Sitting on top of my mountain, listening to music, and talking about the whole Peace Corps experience was great. There were some fun little ponds we explored. Heading down we decided to explore a cave and take a backwards route. Ended up having to climb down a cliff face that was once a latrine so we were all sliding down the mountain in a puddle of shit, literally. That night went to the hotel and had dinner and some beers with Trish, her sister, and some friends. Wednesday morning they headed home. It was great having them at my house and introducing them to my friends and family. I am so proud to be part of my community, its great getting to share it and show the new volunteers what relationships they will have built in a year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After 4 days of newbies I then began two full weeks of visitors from Wales. A teacher and three &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SlMb4ynxLQI/AAAAAAAAA6w/0v_dUQCgp1U/s1600-h/apriljuly+076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355655044348849410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SlMb4ynxLQI/AAAAAAAAA6w/0v_dUQCgp1U/s200/apriljuly+076.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;students from Molapo's sister school are visiting to see their past projects and to do a new one. We decided on a paint project in a few of the class rooms with the potential of getting murals onto the walls. After 4 days, two hours per day, spent trying to purchase supplies and get things organized I think they really got a feel for what development is like in Lesotho. We did make progress and the class rooms look great. They were able to see a lot of the area and even had a tour into the village with some students. I had to leave them on their own for this last week there. Hopefully nothing too "Lesotho" happens to scare them away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I'm in Maseru to do training again with the new volunteers on the environmental stuff. It should be fun, they are a great new group and ask a lot of really good questions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fun story of the day... Sunday was the coldest day I have spent in Lesotho I think. Not only do I have a killer head cold but I am also low on electricity so could not have a heater. What to do on a &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SlMchGeFQAI/AAAAAAAAA64/WEA6zFj8GaM/s1600-h/apriljuly+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355655736871698434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SlMchGeFQAI/AAAAAAAAA64/WEA6zFj8GaM/s200/apriljuly+095.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;super cold day??? PERFECT LENTIL BURGERS! I played with my mix, adding some hot chilli's my mom sent from the states, a bunch of paprika, and yes, people who know me from home, I intentionally added onion and carrot! Threw in some shaved cheese to make it sticky, dunked the patties in flour this time and wham blam... DELICIOUS! They turned out so good!!! So I spent a couple hours making the burgers, 30 mins eating them, and climbed into bed at 7 for a good, long, healing sleep. Dreams of future lentil burger recipes floating in my head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-5234003263568831575?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/5234003263568831575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=5234003263568831575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/5234003263568831575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/5234003263568831575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/07/whats-in-your-lentil-burgers.html' title='Whats in your lentil burgers?'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SlMbcZDe1EI/AAAAAAAAA6o/xANvy7CpsjQ/s72-c/apriljuly+060.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-9058447462929234991</id><published>2009-06-11T00:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T01:15:30.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year</title><content type='html'>The one year mark has officially come and gone.  One year ago, my Birthday, June 6th, we arrived here in Lesotho.  Looking back over my blogs I realize I have left out much of the "Africa" from my African Adventure.  It is hard when you live here and are immersed in the life everyday to sit and really reflect on the smaller things that make living away from home scary and magical at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was planning on sitting here, in the office, and working on my reporting that Peace Corps requires.  I have been racking my brain to think of what I have done and can claim as work for the last year.  When not actually listing what I have done, I feel like I have accomplished nothing in my time here and one more year does not seem like enough to do all that I wanted to do.  But then I take another look at the last year of my life and realize that, really, every day I have accomplished some part of the Peace Corps goals.  I may not be saving the world, I may not have had success in my projects, but I talked and listened and shared with everyone I took the time to greet.  What I have learned from my failures and the tools I gave those I worked with even if our project failed are more valuable than if our farm had produced more than corn and a hand full of beans.  The friends I made at the Ballroom dance club got more from learning better communication and body language than from having perfect steps when Waltzing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a list of what, after one year, Lesotho is to me.  Hopefully it conveys some of the strange magic that makes this "the worst and the best" time of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesotho is...&lt;br /&gt;30 people in a 15 person taxi&lt;br /&gt;a greeting from a stranger&lt;br /&gt;children following you just to see what you do&lt;br /&gt;adults following you just to see what you do&lt;br /&gt;A friend sharing a sparkle on a taxi&lt;br /&gt;Waiting on the side of the road with 4 bags for a hitch that might never come&lt;br /&gt;a clear day where you can see every detail on the mountains&lt;br /&gt;"ke kopa lipompong" candy please&lt;br /&gt;"ke kopa chelete" money please&lt;br /&gt;A baby sheep, not 5 minutes old&lt;br /&gt;carrying a baby on your back&lt;br /&gt;wearing a blanket and having people laugh&lt;br /&gt;Friends rolling their eyes and saying "o ausi" because you did something too American&lt;br /&gt;sun bathing on Christmas&lt;br /&gt;Bo-ntate and their "I Love you"s&lt;br /&gt;watching a student make a discovery&lt;br /&gt;talking to people about HIV/AIDS&lt;br /&gt;people walking up to you on the street and asking you about HIV/AIDS&lt;br /&gt;Learning the Cha Cha... in Africa?&lt;br /&gt;holding a friends hand while talking&lt;br /&gt;people always touching you&lt;br /&gt;Not seeing another white person in 3 weeks&lt;br /&gt;Sitting around a heater enjoying being a part of a family&lt;br /&gt;Crying with your family&lt;br /&gt;Learning more from people than you could ever teach them&lt;br /&gt;peeing in a bucket in front of friends&lt;br /&gt;...Magic&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-9058447462929234991?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/9058447462929234991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=9058447462929234991' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/9058447462929234991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/9058447462929234991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-year.html' title='One Year'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-845533921676529903</id><published>2009-06-09T01:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T01:35:32.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Garfield the Cat</title><content type='html'>Trish pointed out to me that my and Snarky's relationship closely resembles that of John and Garfield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my cat has more personality than most toddlers.  He has decided that he is unable to eat food unless (a) It is human food I have cooked and prepared or (b) I sit next to his bowl while he is eating.  if one of these two conditions is not met then he sits next to me, usually while I am cooking or working at my table, and cries- very loudly- until I acknowledge his presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has also recently decided he loves butter.  There must be a thokolosi helping him.  Somehow the butter gets off of my food shelves, out from under the potatoes I have on top of it to preventthis very thing, onto the floor, and opened.  TWICE!  Snarky has consumed two entire tubs of butter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently his appetite has been low and I noticed he has funny poo- WORMS!!!  My friend who is a vetrinarian was finally around so I got some de-wormer and vitamin shots for Snarky.  She gave me a super discount so it was only R20.  I was headed for Butha-Buthe, I had been away from site for a week in Maseru, and Snarky was angry because I was not home.  Hence, he decided to be really dificult.  I took him, the two shots, the oral med, and a towel outside and waited until Snarky got close to the house.  Grabbed him, wrapped him.  I realized giving two shots into Snarky's ass was going to be difficult by myself.  Ntate Peter was across the donga with two other bo-ntate and they were laughing at me.  I decided that Peter is a farmer and so could help me give and animal a shot.  I yelled "Ntate!!!  ke kopa tusa, e tata!"  Ntate, please help, this is difficult.  He shot me an "aw hells no" look and said "kea Tsaba ausi, kea tsaba!"  I'm scared!  Of a cat? "Ntate, ka nete? ke katse." Ntate, really, its just a cat.  Ntate's friends start laughing at him so he comes ovr and picks Snarky up in one hand.  Nope, Ntate, please give the shot, I will hold the cat.  the vitamin shots needed to be into muscle, not just under skin.  Ntate didn't even get it under the skin.  He squirted vitamin E all over me, himself,and my cat.  I finally gave up and sat on Snarky and shoved the last shot into his ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day... Snarky's litter box was nasty after me being gone for two weeks so i washed and bleached it.  I leaned it against the wall to dry and left the window open for Snarky to get out and do his buisness.  Snarky decided it was too cold out and so pushed the box so it was flat on the floor, in his corner! and pooped all over in it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Me Mankoebe says all she hears is "SNARKY!" then his screaching "Meooooooow"...  echos from my childhood ..... "Garfieeeeeeelllllllllllldddddddddddddddddddd!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-845533921676529903?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/845533921676529903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=845533921676529903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/845533921676529903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/845533921676529903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/06/garfield-cat.html' title='Garfield the Cat'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-6407042054304701834</id><published>2009-06-02T00:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T00:34:43.039-07:00</updated><title type='text'>good days and cold nights</title><content type='html'>So, my last blog was kind of a downer I guess. Sorry. I meant it to be more funny, I dunno, just playing off our many physical adventures in Lesotho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is good though, not just work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The days have been absolutely gorgeous. There has not been rain for a while so it is a little dusty and the wind has a bit of a bite to it. Other than that I have found it possible to wear t-shirts or long sleeved T's during the day. My house does sit in the shadow of a mountain so I don't see sun until 9:30, so everything is covered in frost up until that point. Nights have been the polar opposite, and by "polar" I mean North Pole. We thought it was cold when we flew into Lesotho &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SiTV7bg0wOI/AAAAAAAAA5o/n8-YV63j1QQ/s1600-h/100_0337.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342630274942681314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SiTV7bg0wOI/AAAAAAAAA5o/n8-YV63j1QQ/s200/100_0337.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;last June. This winter has been much colder. At nights I wear long underwear, flannel pants, 3 pairs of socks, a tanktop, long sleeves, and a sweatshirt, then have a comforter, two blankets, and my sleeping bag. Still cold. Bathing is not possible at night or in the mornings so I do the "essentials" at around 3, when I get home from school. It starts to get cold around 4:30 PM so I head over to the families house for tea and to watch some TV. They just got a DVD player so we watched a lot of movies last week. 'Me was so funny during Titanic! She kept telling Rose to "tsamaea" which means "go" when she was going to jump off the ship, she was very frustrated. Then 'Me laid down and told us only to wake her when the ship goes like this.. and she made a cracking in half motion with her hands. A couple nights later we were watching Oprah about Rhianna and Chris Brown. 'Me's English is not good so she wasn't understanding. This one girl on the show said "I just don't understand" and all of the sudden, in a funky, totally hilarious voice, 'Me goes "I just don't understand". OK, doesn't sound that funny, but me and all the kids were dying we were laughing so hard. Sitting around their little heater, eating phoone and drinking tea, watching the TV, makes it a lot easier to go back to my refrigerator house for the rest of the night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-6407042054304701834?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/6407042054304701834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=6407042054304701834' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/6407042054304701834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/6407042054304701834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/06/good-days-and-cold-nights.html' title='good days and cold nights'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SiTV7bg0wOI/AAAAAAAAA5o/n8-YV63j1QQ/s72-c/100_0337.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-7743427961182842268</id><published>2009-05-12T03:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T01:35:39.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Physical Manifestations of Home-Sickness</title><content type='html'>I'm not going to go into detail about the many bowel related issues all Peace Corps volunteers face. All I'm going to say is that for the past week and a half I have been suffering from the opposite of the general issue. Pain, suffering, physical illness... all in large part, I believe, to the "stress" of being at the one year mark of my service. Many volunteers are feeling the strain at this time, my current strain is residing in my pulled neck and leg muscles. Home-sickness here is different than the "I wanna go home"s suffered at summer camp, or the "I want my Mommy"s after a bad day at school. Here it is a weight you carry around constantly, a knot in your stomach, and a total lack of motivation on some occasions. It's hard to describe just what the sufferers of what I am choosing to call PCVHS feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cinco de Mayo feast: &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341532317940939906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SiDvV68jfII/AAAAAAAAA5g/9awgE2mE1Qw/s200/SCHOOL.CINCOMAYO+016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;But, here we are. In about a month we will be at exactly our one year mark. Time has moved so fast that it doesn't seem like there will be enough time to finish everything. Just one more year, ka nete? The first year with regards to work moved at a glacial pace. Now I am actually facing the possibility of not having enough time!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am currently, as aforementioned (thats for you Trish), teaching two classes, B3 and B4. B3's have riveting conversations and get so into the subject matter that you can actually see them taking my prompts and using each other as the main teaching tool. B4's are trouble and still only &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SiDvBswwubI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/4HbcTDsPRWY/s1600-h/SCHOOL.CINCOMAYO+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341531970535995826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SiDvBswwubI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/4HbcTDsPRWY/s200/SCHOOL.CINCOMAYO+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;seek to be abusive to each other. The B3's just finished their Gender sessions, B4 is still trying to get through them, and have started on goals and future planning. They have actually listened (B4) to everything in such a way that they were able to see, realistically, what they need to do and what they can accomplish. We did an exercise that I simplified from MAP called "Gender Box". The kids identified how girls and boys think the other sex should act. We then had a three day discussion using the phrase "I feel---- because----". The conversations roamed over many topics, everyone listened to each other, and even sensitive topics like rape and abortion were &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SiDuAoBHJ9I/AAAAAAAAA5I/ClYNXMtiYUg/s1600-h/SCHOOL.CINCOMAYO+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;approached and discussed condusively. We also did a typical PC exercise called a bridge model where they have to build a bridge of skills and knowledge over the challenges they will face in their lives. B4's took everything we had been discussing from day one and build a rock star bridge. B4's, you are my heroes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I finished my first project proposal last week as well. Trish helped me a lot on the wording (probably obvious from m blog me and words don't get along). It turned out to be really awesome and I think me and the GRO Foundation can really run far with it. It is a four part project but we are focussing on only two parts right now. Part one is a post-secondary resource book to help students know what to do after high school. Part two are career fairs and workshops for girls to give them the information in a more fun format. So many kids here are smart and graduate with what is considered good grades here but they don't know where to go or what to do. Hopefully this project will allow them access to the information that will empower them to plan for the future and be successful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Library is gorgeous. Ntate Phoole put up a new coat of paint and fixed the floor. We have old shelves put in but I am making plans for fixed shelves on the walls also. It's going to be SO much work but the committee is really dedicated to this project and its success. Its good to know that, for sure, at least one of my projects will be sustainable. I Can't wait until the books come. The few books we have at the school now are Voltaire, Jane Austen, Niche, and other classics that most high schoolers in America stay away from. My two Gilmore Girl books have already been lent out, even though the library isn't running . The best part is seeing the kids who are helping me clean or move shelves DISCOVER the books. They get so distracted by all the options and all the stories that they aren't much of a help to me, but thats fine, it gives me energy to see what an impact just looking at books has on my students.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A fun story- Saturday was going to be cultural day at St. Michael's school. Friday I borrowed an &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SiDunxHBVhI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/gwbtmQUEIqQ/s1600-h/SCHOOL.CINCOMAYO+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341531525026502162" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SiDunxHBVhI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/gwbtmQUEIqQ/s200/SCHOOL.CINCOMAYO+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;adorable seshoeshoe that belongs to my older host-sister and last Sunday my friend Malekhula braided my hair in con rows. Saturday morning I got up, not feeling well but still looking forward to a super fun day. The kids have been practicing for weeks and this cultural day was going to include drama and choir competitions in addition to the dance. I got to school at 8:30 because I was told to be there at 8, no one else showed till 9, we got on the bus at 9:45. The end of our half hour drive resulted in us sitting at St. Michael's for an hour, surrounded by a sports day instead f said cultural day. Turns out no one let Molapo know that Cultural day had been postponed until the 29th. So, we drove all the way back to school. The kids were so disappointed that M'e Noko decided to let them have a party and their own cultural day at the school. Hopefully some good came from this though; the kids will now be able o practice and perfect for the next two weeks!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-7743427961182842268?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/7743427961182842268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=7743427961182842268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/7743427961182842268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/7743427961182842268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/05/physical-manifestations-of-home.html' title='Physical Manifestations of Home-Sickness'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SiDvV68jfII/AAAAAAAAA5g/9awgE2mE1Qw/s72-c/SCHOOL.CINCOMAYO+016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-5883094377909684881</id><published>2009-04-21T02:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T02:37:20.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter and Diversity</title><content type='html'>As my last post said, I spent Easter in Maseru then headed to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mokhotlong&lt;/span&gt; for the Diversity Camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter in Maseru was totally chill and yummy. Woke up Sunday &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;morning&lt;/span&gt; to find a chocolate Easter candy on my door that Merrill the Bunny had left for me. Maya made a super-star dinner and we all just relaxed. On Monday people started getting back into town and by Tuesday it was packed with all of us exchanging stories and enjoying seeing people we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hadn't&lt;/span&gt; seen in a while. I spent the day just hanging out with people and catching up on all the &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;PCV&lt;/span&gt; gossip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday morning started bright and early because me and Rachel had to be on the bus for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Mokhotlong&lt;/span&gt; by 6:30. Then began a ride that seemed much longer than the one to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Qacha&lt;/span&gt;. Maybe i&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt; was that they crammed every possible space with a body, maybe it was climbing up to 3000 meters, straight up. Finally we did arrive in the camp town at about 3:30 with one stop at Oxbow and an hour and a half lay-over in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Butha&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Buthe&lt;/span&gt;. The guy next to me was sloppy drunk and very friendly by the time we reached town but at least did not puke or pass out on top of me. Me and Rachel just crashed at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;RVRC&lt;/span&gt; for the night and watched movies. Their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;VRC&lt;/span&gt; is totally pimp with a computer, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt;, and a couch so it was a comfy night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we met up with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Violeta&lt;/span&gt; and started to prepare for the Diversity Camp. Most everything was prepared and we spent a lot of time just supervising to make sure things went smoothly. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;facilitators&lt;/span&gt; were from the Crossroads Youth Group in Maseru and they did an amazing job. The kids had fun, participated, and contributed a lot of ideas. The sessions were all held in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Sesotho&lt;/span&gt; which made it hard for us to participate or sit through but made the kids get a lot more out of the whole experience. It was at the camp that I met vegan, atheist, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;scientologist&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Basotho&lt;/span&gt; for the first time and realized for myself &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; Lesotho is much more diverse than even I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite part was probable when some of the students, all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;high school&lt;/span&gt; form B or C, started a debate, on their own, about whether children should be baptised or not. Not only were they using proper debating skills and thinking through their arguments but they were also speaking entirely in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt;. Even after us three Americans left the group, they spoke &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt; the entire time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the best group of kids I have seen since being here, I wish my classes at school participated half as much or spoke &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt; with such self &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;assurance&lt;/span&gt;. Their participation which was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; encouraged by the S&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;esotho&lt;/span&gt; helped them all the see the differences in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;each other&lt;/span&gt; as well as in the country as a whole. It was sad to leave beautiful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Mokhotlong&lt;/span&gt; and its awesome kids on Sunday but it was also great to be home, see my family, and give &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Snarky&lt;/span&gt; a hug. Its a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;different&lt;/span&gt; world up there and I cant wait to go visit Rachel and see her village.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-5883094377909684881?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/5883094377909684881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=5883094377909684881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/5883094377909684881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/5883094377909684881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter-and-diversity.html' title='Easter and Diversity'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-6244030170727029322</id><published>2009-04-11T05:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T06:22:09.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spontaneous Blogging</title><content type='html'>So, usually I have a general idea of what to write about and I have my journal next to me for &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SeCYNzlRkUI/AAAAAAAAAxw/JP8RMoQtCak/s1600-h/100_0117.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323422122504196418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SeCYNzlRkUI/AAAAAAAAAxw/JP8RMoQtCak/s200/100_0117.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SeCWDzpalGI/AAAAAAAAAxU/l14lllqI5A8/s1600-h/100_0117.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;notes but today I am just sitting here, uploading photos onto Picasa, and decided that I should do something slightly productive. March was an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;UBER&lt;/span&gt; tough month... as follows...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As of being an Agriculture-focused volunteer... that is no longer applicable. Working on the farm at school has lost all potential of being productive so I have started to apply myself at school in a much more rewarding way. I am now the proud Life-Skills teacher of B3 and B4 as well as the teacher of the teachers to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;teach&lt;/span&gt; life skills. I have written them a manual, and giving workshops to all the teachers, and answering questions as needed in addition to my four hours a week spent in the classroom. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; super stoked for our ALP books to come because that will give me a lot of work to do... though, again, getting to principal to do things in a semi-reasonable time frame is next to impossible. The farm hand also broke my poor calf Daisy's leg and Marco says its fine but they took the cast off too soon because they put it on wrong and now her leg wobbles like its made of Jello.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Family life has been strange after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ntate&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Khoanyane's&lt;/span&gt; death. The funeral was intense and interesting and also a very personal experience. The week after the funeral was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;awful&lt;/span&gt;, in a word. Cross-Cultural exchange was more like yelling at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Katleho&lt;/span&gt; (me) for participating in cultural activities/rituals that some (95% of people polled were alright with it and only 5% objected) because they didn't understand why anyone in another culture would participate in someone e&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;lse's&lt;/span&gt; culture. The family were the ones who wanted and understood me participating the most, they were the ones who invited me to participate, but a couple teachers decided to attack me verbally and made me cry Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I would like to put in that I am not a cry baby but a great deal of stress and people who were supposed to be my friends yelling at me is a good reason to break down. After that week the problem was resolved in typical &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;fashion&lt;/span&gt; here... we pretended nothing happened. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Marosa&lt;/span&gt;, my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;bo&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ausi&lt;/span&gt;, and 'Me have all been getting better every day but life at home just feels different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SeCXZeUVzEI/AAAAAAAAAxk/nQt40tkt3ns/s1600-h/100_0179.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323421223442828354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SeCXZeUVzEI/AAAAAAAAAxk/nQt40tkt3ns/s200/100_0179.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally got up to BB to finish the map with Jen. Super fun but again very hot and bright. There were a couple couch surfers from Belgium who were fun, even though one decided to change her pants in the middle of the school grounds. It was nice to finally finish the project and it turned out amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to go into Maseru last Tuesday because I have been sick since the first of the month. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; been sleeping at night because I have been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;coughing&lt;/span&gt; up giant balls of green goo and everyone was worried. Went in and got the typical Peace Corps verdict from J-man... "It's a virus, not bacteria; nothing we can give ya." In the future now due to personal experience and that of others I'm just going to assume everything is viral. I have been taking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Benadryll&lt;/span&gt; at nights just to dry up the sinuses and its great because I was told it would make me drowsy but it actually makes me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;unconscious&lt;/span&gt; so I have gotten more sleep the last week/two weeks than I have in... I dunno... a long time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SeCWDhEyRQI/AAAAAAAAAxM/jrdVEA6QBng/s1600-h/100_0265.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323419746714141954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SeCWDhEyRQI/AAAAAAAAAxM/jrdVEA6QBng/s200/100_0265.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last week Friday was "Funny Day" at school which made all the crazy-drama-home-sick-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;sicky&lt;/span&gt; month worth while. All of us teachers borrowed uniforms from kids (including the Grasshoppers which the kids had to polish for us) and wore them while the kids got to wear whatever they wanted. It totally reminded me of home-coming week at home, same type of fun and the kids all wore similar things to what we did at home for our funny-days. Going into town in the outfit was a whole &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;nother&lt;/span&gt; adventure. The other teachers just looked like students but not me... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;nooooo&lt;/span&gt;... i was the crazy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;lekhooa&lt;/span&gt; again! All in all it was fun tho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Day before yesterday rocked my socks. I got a package from home, not unusually, but inside was an awesome bag/purse and it smelled like home. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; the box also contained a pack of taco seasoning which had decided to explode, not only flavoring my peeps like a burrito bat also coating the bag in an invisible layer of spicy crap. So, upon smelling my bag that smelled of home I also inhaled a great deal of seasoning mix and thus started to cry from the burning. I ate the peeps, maybe I should write and suggest them to add taco seasoning to their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;recipe&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which brings me to today, sitting in a very quiet office. Most everyone else has gone into SA, only a few of us remain to have our Easter break closer and cheaper. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to do food here in Maseru with Ann, Nichole, Maya, and Merrill, maybe Barb &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; stick around till all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;worldly&lt;/span&gt; travelers return on Tuesday to get stories and just talk to those I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; seen forever. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; really excited about Wednesday when me and Rachel will be heading to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Mokhotlong&lt;/span&gt; for a Diversity Camp. I have been dying to see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Mokhotlong&lt;/span&gt; and also to actually feel like I'm working so this is going to be great. Then its back to school and back to routine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a fun note- My best-friend (Jo) and a good friend from the sorority (Erica) are coming to see me in AUGUST and they might bring my sister (Nikki)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-6244030170727029322?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/6244030170727029322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=6244030170727029322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/6244030170727029322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/6244030170727029322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/04/spontaneous-blogging.html' title='Spontaneous Blogging'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/SeCYNzlRkUI/AAAAAAAAAxw/JP8RMoQtCak/s72-c/100_0117.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-6538282144571947577</id><published>2009-02-24T00:40:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T22:31:55.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Semonkong and Ntate Khoanyane</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Sat8z23F-yI/AAAAAAAAAfY/ief4cVadEeQ/s1600-h/100_0090%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308473816128027426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Sat8z23F-yI/AAAAAAAAAfY/ief4cVadEeQ/s200/100_0090%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This weekend (2.20.09) was my first trip away from site in a month. Money is low after Durban. We headed to Semonkong early Friday morning from Leribe. It was pouring rain but luckily let up a little so that me, Ashley, and Trish could catch a hitch from town to Maseru. Thanks to Trish we got a ride in a brand new Land Rover that was absolutely gorgeous with a man who is in the diamond buisness. We met up with everyone else in Maseru at about 10 and waited till about 11 before hopping on a bus to take off. We got the million-year-old bus that had a leaky roof and plank seats. Pam and Al were able to patch the leaky holes with bubble gum so that was nice and it gave the Basotho on the bus something to laugh about. The road to Semonkong is not paved half the way so I'm sure its not hard to imagine how much fun that ride was (5 hours total). We got into town and it is amazing, I cant wait to go visit Nick again. So many mountains and open but still trees. The river was especially nice. We just hung out and chilled Friday night, Nick and Al made pasta for dinner, we all went to the bar at the lodge, super fun. The shower was great at the end of the day. Since I have not left site for a month I have also only had bucket baths and this shower was the same size as my whole bathroom at home in the States. Saturday morning a few people trekked through the mud to see the falls but I decided to wait until I visit again. Our donkeys pulled up just as people were getting back from the falls at about 11 so it was all aboard. I named mine Tinker Bell but when I tried to get on the whole saddle came off so I got placed on Tinker Bell the second. Literally placed because Ntate Muso (a guide) had me stand on a wall and helped lift me, unnecessarily, into the saddle. Nick also had a whole stack of Barrack Obama Stickers that were strategically placed on volunteers, donkeys, saddles, and buildings and random children throughout the day. We rode our donkey train into town to the first bar where me and Trish both made not so graceful dismounts. Again, the whole saddle came with me and I landed flat on my ass. We then proceeded through town to the next bar, a home-brew place, on to another where we stayed for a while and I wowed our guides with my ability to play the local card game (casino) and we all enjoyed a sheep that we had butchered for our braii with papa, rice, salad, and green beans. We then had a few people leave, a couple of our party were not the pictures of health, but a bulk of us went on to the next bar. On this magical journey I had, by then, consumed enough alcohol along with everyone else that I was surprised we all got onto the donkeys. I lost Tink's whip ( I had no reins so had to steer with a stick) so had a little boy run and get me one which made his day. At the next bar we chilled outside in the sun, drank a few more, then it was the end of the journey. Tink was definitely a follower, not a leader, so when she was out in 3rd place on our way home I was stoked. On the big hill down to the lodge though her saddle was slipping so Moshoeshoe made me get off, placing me in last place except for Ashley, who I made wait for me, but then Tink left her in the dust. We got back up to the lodge, I almost fell again. Which, considering the day, I'm amazed it was "almost". There was a Japanese couple staying at the lodge also, doing development studies in London, but I was not able to speak any Japanese so was getting extremely frustrated. Every time I started to say something my mouth switched it to Sesotho. I stayed up and hung out with the people from BostonHealth who were cool. Sunday morning saw us leaving about 8 to get on the big nice bus which didn't leave until after 10 but arrived in Maseru in just 3 short hours. I headed back up to Leribe immediately, I was exhausted!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I got home I went straight to the water tap to fill my bucket. Somehow Marosa, my little sister, managed to sneak in behind me and scared the shit out of me because she was just sitting silently at my table. She had typed a message on her phone because she couldn't talk she was crying so hard. As soon as i saw she was crying I had a good idea of what had happened. In December my Ntate, Marosa's father, had what they called a "heart problem from stress" but I had a feeling it might have been a minor stroke because he was having a hard time talking and using his hands and moving his face. About 3 weeks ago, so early February, hew had a more serious stroke and then another once they got him to the hospital. He was unconscious and looking very bad for a couple weeks but then was talking and able to move his hands a little. Until Saturday. When 'Me went to visit with my little brother Tlali, Ntate must have felt he said his last goodbye's and left us. It turns out he had Meningitis, not just strokes, so I am trying to get 'Me to go to the hospital for treatment just in case. He was a good father to all of his kids. They are all respectful but still have a strong sense of self and right and wrong. 'Me was not doing very well and neither was one of my older sisters, they took it the hardest. As of 3 days after the fact they still had not told the two youngest, 13 and 9, what had happened because they were "too young to understand". The funeral for Ntate will be on March 14th. The night of the 13th he will "come home" and stay in the bedroom, where 'Me will have to sleep with him in the coffin next to the bed. Marosa is pretty creeped about this. I have never really even been to a funeral in the states, especially nothing close to open casket, so am a little anxious. The police force, whom he worked for, is going to do all the planning and pay for it so that takes a lot of burden off the family. It is a really tough time for my family but they are showing how strong Nate has raised them and sticking together to get through this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-6538282144571947577?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/6538282144571947577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=6538282144571947577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/6538282144571947577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/6538282144571947577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/02/semonkong-and-ntate-khoanyane.html' title='Semonkong and Ntate Khoanyane'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Sat8z23F-yI/AAAAAAAAAfY/ief4cVadEeQ/s72-c/100_0090%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681671052549845511.post-3509980131986135406</id><published>2009-02-24T00:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T00:40:45.924-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ka Pitseng</title><content type='html'>Written: 2/9/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday was a wonderful day!  The form E’s did so well on their exams last year that we got half a chicken the week before, slaughtered the bull, and all of the teachers and me got to go on a retreat on Friday for the whole day.  We were going to the Ka Pitseng Guesthouse in TY and were scheduled to leave at 8 am.  Well, the students were so excited because Ntate Phoole told them that they will get to eat beef that day that they sang 4 songs (every morning at assembly they sing at least one) and the teachers got in front of the school and danced.  It was a special moment and one of those where you see which teachers really care and want to play with the kids.  We got into the taxi’s around 9 but had to go to the permitting office.  The taxis normally don’t travel past Maputsoe so they had to get short term permits.  The forms that had the passengers’ names were never submitted so we had to wait in a gravel lot, hot sun, for about an hour and a half for it all to be worked out.  This is a good time to mention that the school also bought every one 3 six-packs of beverage.  Most of the guys got beer, as well as a few of the women, and I got Miller, the only American beer I have found.  Local beer gives me a hangover no matter if I only drink a little.  So, bored, hot, sitting on the side of the road, we all opened a beer (the guys multiple beers) and chilled.  Left the lot about 10:30, very interesting drive, I’m still not used to the idea of open containers in cars.  Arrived at TY at about 12 and everyone was ready to eat and just hang.  Some people by this time were already feeling the effects of their first six-pack.  I roamed most of the day, going from group to group.  We danced, people talked, no one had any drama (which, usually, I guess there are lots of fights).  At 1 the first round of meat was ready.  We started with boroso (sausage), papa, and linawa (beans).  Once the boroso was off the grill it was time for beef then time for chicken.  We ate from 1 until 6 non-stop.  I haven’t had so much protein in 8 months.  Actually, I don’t think I have ever eaten that much meat in one day.  The trip really allowed me a chance to spend time with some of the teachers I don’t know that well or only see at school.  It also let me see that they really consider me part of the school and that I have my place in the Molapo community.  Hanging out in the sun with a good beer, meat, and good friends really made realize that in some ways Lesotho has become home to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7681671052549845511-3509980131986135406?l=kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/feeds/3509980131986135406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7681671052549845511&amp;postID=3509980131986135406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/3509980131986135406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7681671052549845511/posts/default/3509980131986135406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kubuinlesotho.blogspot.com/2009/02/ka-pitseng.html' title='Ka Pitseng'/><author><name>Tara Stone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09479613120882716145</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0_dZM48MNvQ/Slbwgh4wpiI/AAAAAAAABR0/UJwPN9MGCP0/S220/apriljuly+061.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
