Blankets

Blankets...

Here are a few pictures from one day's stroll, and they by no means capture the full variety of blankets seen as one travels about. If you want more history and background on the blanket just click here, Basotho Blanket .



A couple of guys more than willing to have their photo taken.




This old woman was sitting in the sun warming herself. I was able to ask her daughter if I could take the picture. Earlier I had tried to speak with an old man similarily sitting in the sun. Both appeared to have cataracts, their eyes were cloudy. But they both seemed to find comfort in their blankets.

Women who have not borne a child are expected to wear their blanket around the waist to keep their womb warm. Once they are mothers, they may wear their blanket around their shoulders. This woman just looked to be wanting to keep warm.










On her back, under her blanket, this young woman is carrying her baby. In the Basotho culture women carry their babies on their backs.






I was following this woman in her brightly coloured blanket. As I overtook her her cell phone rang. After her call I asked her if I could take her photo, and she posed with her phone to her ear.

Then just up the road were a number of folks in similar blankets. They asked that I take a group photo. The woman and the others were part of a group who performed cultural dance and song. They were gathering to attend a rehearsal was the best I could understand.



The apparent manager of the group indicated that they would like to receive a picture. I have access to a colour printer and returned to the house later with a couple of pictures. A few of the group were there when I returned. Wow, were they ever excited to see the first picture. When they saw the second picture I was almost drowned in their hugs and their excitement. I was again reminded of how little these folks have, and how delighted they are with such simple things.


These were a couple of other women in blankets who agreed to be photographed. The young guy also wanted into the photo. I was able to return with a colour print for them as well, and again what excitement. I left the photo at the home of the woman in brown and the boy. After I left I looked back to see the boy racing off to show the picture to the second woman.



I wanted to add this woman's blue blanket to my photo collection and she obligingly posed for me. I showed her friends and her the picture on the back to the camera and that had them excited. I didn't find out where this lady lives so I was not able to give her a picture to say thanks, but I took the picture along the road I walk to work down, so I might just see her yet again.





And of course another opportunity to add a picture of a herdsboy. His blanket is pretty drap, but some of the boys have more brightly decorated ones.

Blankets ...

~ Benno ~

Poverty

I know nothing about poverty! This reality was brought home to me in a real way this week.

During the past couple of weeks I have had moments when I would get a bit grumpy. The baby numbers at Beautiful Gate have been increasing and it is time to bring the second baby house into use. Following the move from the former site, Baby House 2 has been used to store stuff. Getting the house ready included sorting through and moving a lot of donated clothing and toys elsewhere. The sorting was what led me to feeling a bit grumpy.

There were donations of very nice, gently use things. But then there was the less gently used stuff! One of my jobs was sorting though the toys, and that included the broken toys, toys with missing parts, coloring books with most of the pictures colored, children’s books torn and with missing pages. I was just a bit irritated and grumpy with the well meaning folks who would donate such ‘junk’. I was prepared to throw much of it away. However, in a moment of lucidity I did think to get the advice of a Masotho colleague. Maybe my western ideas of what was junk was not applicable in Lesotho. As it turned out, my western ideas were not.

I watched as my Masotho colleague carefully sorted through the stuff I had identified as ‘junk’ and how most of it ended up in the keeper pile; maybe not for the babies at Beautiful Gate but at least to share with local families. The remaining pile of what she considered rubbish was quite small.

One of the local workers at Beautiful Gate, a man, helped haul this rubbish of broken, worn, and soiled toys to the trash bin where it was placed with the kitchen garbage and the volumes of dirty diapers from 20+ babies. The local guy then advised some of the other men on site, those working for the construction company, of the “rubbish” we had just hauled out. On subsequent trips past the trash bin I saw grown men, working men, standing in the smell of a hundred soiled diapers sorting through the cast off toys - salvaging something here, a broken piece or a torn book there; something, anything for their child at home.

I thought, “If this is what working men here will do to secure a toy for their child, I have absolutely no comprehension of what poverty really is, nor the desperation of those who have no job.” In that moment I caught just a glimpse of the desperation of a mother who might leave her baby on a hill, or beside a road, or in a toilet.

Another impact was that I gained a deeper respect for the efforts of agencies like Samaritan's Purse and its oft-criticized Operation Christmas Child program. When I saw what a father would do to provide his child with a toy, I realized that the shoeboxes of Operation Christmas Child provide untold joy and delight to such children and families.

Poverty. I am barely beginning to understand what it really means.

~ Benno ~

(By the way, if you are one who does support efforts like Operation Christmas Child, may I offer one suggestion? Totally unpackage whatever you intend to send. Especially keep all the plastic packaging at home. Where those shoeboxes go, it is most likely that there is no garbage pick-up, so please dispose of whatever would be garbage where you are. Thanks ☺ ☺ ~B )

So, What Am I Doing ...

By now some of you may be wondering, "What is it he is doing or will be doing in Lesotho, anyways??"

When I had applied, it was to be involved in the community economic development initiatives that Beautiful Gate was looking to undertake. Beautiful Gate had received a sizable donation for community initiatives and the Director had wanted to get something underway to honor the intentions of the donors. I was to lead that initiative. But things change.

Upon arriving I joined an organization in a fair degree of organizational stress. I have mentioned previously that the organizational has experienced phenomenal growth. However, as so often can occur with growing organizations, the organizational structure has not kept up with the growth. The result is an organization experiencing stress, especially the Director, whom I described as an individual trying to fulfill two full time roles. As a result, within days of my arrival we made a decision to not proceed with the community development initiative at this time. The Director wisely recognized that he and the organization were just under too much pressure to consider another new initiative at this time. So, instead of community economic development, I will focus on organizational and leadership development at Beautiful Gate.

To relieve the stress on the Director, I will be assuming the role of interim or transition Program Director and will be responsible for the Residential Care, Educ-Care (Pre School) and Health Care programs. It is a role I am looking forward to with anticipation. In my four weeks of wandering about, helping where I could, I have met many amazingly capable people. Yes, they have been struggling with the growth and changes in their organization, but they have been doing a most remarkable job given the growing pains they have faced. In addition, they recognize the need for and are ready for change. I enjoy working with people - inviting them to believe in and embrace their strengths. As such I am looking forward to this role, and feel honored to be supporting the caliber of Basotho and volunteer staff that I have met at Beautiful Gate.

As a fresh pair of eyes, I think I have also been able to see organizational strengths and opportunities. Hence, in terms of organization and leadership development, my role will be largely to invite the staff to see and own their strengths, invite them to consider opportunities, and then support them with implementing changes and policies to build the growing organization they are part of.

I mentioned that my role will be interim or transitional. There is a most capable Masotho woman who has been a tower of strength for the organization during the past number of months. I believe she has been the glue that has held the programs together while the Operations Director was pulled away with the building project. My role really will be to work alongside her, learning with and supporting her as she prepares to fully assume the Program Director role sometime within the next 12-18 months. At the same time I will have opportunity to support the development of a number of other key staff. I truly look forward to working with all of these wonderful and capable individuals

There will certainly be challenges, too. Theories and practice from a Western culture may not translate to the culture I am now part of. And, I will need to resist the temptation to rely solely on my own experience and training. I will need to stay in touch with my God and to be seeking his wisdom as I work and contribute to the purpose of Beautiful Gate.

An aside about that purpose: As I was wandering about the first couple of weeks, my sense was that Beautiful Gate Lesotho was about offering children hope and a future. I shared this thought with the Director and his wife, the founders of Beautiful Gate Lesotho. Little did I know that one of the Bible verses they had claimed to under gird their ministry was Jeremiah 29:11 - “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” It sort of gave me goose bumps when the wife shared that bit of information with me.

So a new purpose statement for Beautiful Gate Lesotho is emerging and will likely contain a phrase something like, "Beautiful Gate exists to offer the children of Lesotho hope and a future, both in this life and for eternity”.

~ Benno ~

Odds and Ends

Today's entry is a collection of tidbits of information.

The weather: The endless Indian summer weather just goes on and on and on. It really is wonderful. The highs are getting a bit warmer each week, but we still have very cool nights, often with frost, but warm sunny days. We have had a few days of wind and that certainly adds a wind chill, and makes it less enjoyable outside.

Lesotho: Where I carry extra clothes in my back pack while I walk to work (yes, I continue the trek) so that I have something extra to keep me warm if I end up working inside at work.

I hang my head in humility: My efforts to keep our heater going seem to be much less successful than those of Wendy and the other woman who shares the staff house with us. My efforts seem to do more to put out the fire than to inflame it. I will need more lessons in coal fire building.

Talking about lessons: “Letsatsi le monate!” Or, “Have a good day!”. Sometimes my head feels like it will burst trying to grasp some basic phrases in Sesotho. But, bit by bit I am working on a vocabulary of words and phrases. Wow, but the basic elements of the Sesotho language are so different. One example is that to make a word plural one changes the prefix, but the new prefix is dependent on what the previous prefix was. So there are about 5-6 different prefixes that are used to change a word to be plural.
- moshangyana is one boy, bashangyana is more than one boy.
- sefati is a tree, lifati (pronounced dee-fa-tee) a number of trees.
- mokotla, a handbag, becomes mekotla.

Correction: Remember when I described the fallen down homes I passed when I described my first trek to Beautiful Gate. Well, while some were fallen down homes, other seemingly piles of rock, on closer inspection, are actually stacked three foot circular walls, or cattle kraals. That wasn't too hard to figure out when during my morning treks I would see cows placidly looking out at me from over those low stacked walls.

Is this really Africa? Yes, I know I explained to many folks before leaving for Lesotho that the temperatures here actually dip below freezing. Yet even for me, despite the frost on the ground many mornings, it didn’t really strike home until the morning I was looking for something to scrape the frost off the car windshield. And no, a small windshield scrapper is not something I have noticed on any store shelf here.

More lessons: Everyone here it seems carries a cell phone, so after years of resisting the trend in Canada I have gotten on board here. Besides, here it is pay as you go. I spent the equivalent of $40Can, plus another $10 for air time, and I had a cell phone. No contracts, no monthly fees for three years, just pay as I go. And as every teenager in Red Deer knows, text messaging is the cheaper way to go. So now my thumbs are taking lessons in nimbleness, as I am trying to find my way around a cell phone. I did finally figure out how to capitalize a letter and to add punctuation to my messages.

Wendy and gardening: Since the weather is beautiful and spring like, Wendy is just itching to get gardening. She received some tips and a planting guide from the Masotho lady next door. (Masotho being the singular, Basotho the plural.) But what the heck, the weather was saying spring to Wendy so she was off and planting. When she announced to our Masotho neighbor that she had planted some squash, the kindly neighbor gently inquired if Wendy had read the planting guide that the she had provided. (October is when one plants squash.) I casually mentioned to Wendy that late August here is the equivalent of late February in Canada. Besides, the rains don’t come until late September/October.

Correction #2: Back to my trek to work and some of those seeps I mentioned. Well, some of them are actually a source of water for some folks. The first morning I saw someone dipping his water container into one, I almost gasped. Now I tell myself that they must be using the water just for washing, but ….

Until next time.

Oh by the way, few of you have left comments for us on the blog. Thanks so much. We would like to send a note of thanks, but your comment on the blog leaves no tracks so we cannot reply. If we haven’t your address and if you are willing to leave an e-mail address, we could send a note.

~ Benno ~

Beautiful Gate

In past entries I have provided some brief comments about Beautiful Gate Lesotho (BGL). Today I will take a moment to give a fuller picture of the organization. I have mentioned that BGL had its origins in offering care to three abandoned babies left at a local hospital. From that start some 150 babies have passed through the doors of BGL.

I had naively thought the babies all had been left at a hospital, from which, through the Department of Social Welfare, they were directed to BGL to be cared for. Well, that thought was only partially correct. Often there is a story before the hospital, though some parents, unable to provide for a child, do take the child to the hospital or even directly to BGL on occasion. But for many babies abandonment occurred before the hospital.

I cannot comprehend the desperation of poverty, whether poverty as a lack of resources or poverty of spirit – the shame of having a baby outside of marriage or having one that may be HIV positive. But this desperation leads to babies abandoned, not just in the hospital, but also in ditches, on hillsides, or left in pit toilets. (At least in the toilets the babies have a chance of being found sooner by someone using the toilet.) Little Pelesa was one who was abandoned on a hillside. By the time she was found, her core temperature was well below normal, and though she struggled valiantly under the care of BGL staff, she was not able to recover. Her funeral was today. She had not reached two months of age.

Fortunately Pelesa's final chapter is the exception. More often the babies are restored to health and vitality through the love and care they receive at Beautiful Gate. Death, though, has been a too frequent visitor for little ones whose start in life has been so difficult.

I have used the term ‘babies’ throughout as babies are the focus of BGL. BGL works very closely with the Department of Social Welfare here in Lesotho. While BGL provides care for the baby, the Department of Social Welfare works at securing long-term adoption placements for the babies, either locally or internationally. Hence BGL seldom has a baby, or child, older than three years. A current concern at BGL is that the Lesotho government has recently placed a moratorium on all adoptions due to reports that less scrupulous organizations, masquerading as adoption agencies, are actually involved in child trafficking.

While the concern of the government is valid, we are praying for a quick resolution to the concern. One of our little boy’s adoption has been put on hold. I say boy this time because he is past three and knows that other babies have gone to homes and wonders why he cannot go. There is a story of one other such little fellow. He too, was past three when his adoption was finalized, and the day he was to be picked up by his adoptive parents, he was up very early, got himself dressed, and was waiting at the door with his coat on before he had even had his breakfast.

I have so much respect for the perspective of BGL. Their intent is to see each baby placed with a long term loving family. They do not see long tern orphanage care as the answer. I also highly respect their more recent initiatives. One is the development of the pre-school, which opened on Monday, August 13. The pre-school offers local parents who cannot afford pre-school for their children, a place where they can send their children, at no cost. A second initiative, still in the development stage, is the community clinic. The plan for the clinic is to offer pre-natal care and counseling to women in the community. One recent study has suggested that as many as 50% of the women of child bearing age in Maseru are HIV+. As such, pre-natal care becomes an imperative to reduce or prevent the transmission of HIV from mother to child.

Here in Maseru, Beautiful Gate is one of the agencies on the front lines of offering hope and a future to the children of Lesotho. What is even more amazing is that they do so with no support from the relatively impoverished Lesotho government. Each month the organization depends on God to provide the resources needed to keep the centre and its programs running. I can’t imagine living on that kind of faith, but God has been faithful as individuals, groups, and churches in America and Europe have provided BGL with the funds needed for its programs and the building projects.

If you are one who is given to pray, two specific needs come to mind. First, that the moratorium on adoptions would quickly be resolved so that babies can again be placed into families. And second, BGL has a few critical needs for volunteers, and one is for another nurse if the plans for the community clinic are to move forward. Thanks.

~ Benno ~

The Hospital Visit

Monday, August 13th. Today I had the opportunity to tour one VERY poor section of the city, the country's major public hospital: Queen E II. Whew…

This was one place I’d wanted to visit after hearing a short speech on YouTube by Stephen Lewis, the past UN Envoy for AIDS in Africa.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYI2__TYtzA

It was not quite like Stephen Lewis described the hospital he visited (perhaps it was a different one), with two patients to a bed—unless he was referring to the babies’ ward. Nor did I see any patients UNDER a bed; however, there were people everywhere; in fact, it was difficult at times to determine who was a patient and who was a visitor.

But first: upon entering the hospital grounds, my senses were confronted by the mounds of garbage piled around the big chimneys that looked to be a very ineffective incinerator system. Any diseases present would have ample opportunity to fester in this environment. As we entered the hospital buildings, the first ward was the TB ward. Isolation? Hardly—unless an open door classifies as isolation. The only indication that this was a highly contagious area was the face masks—inadequate by 'developed world' standards—worn by the nursing staff. Down at the end of the hallway and just around the corner was the Pediatric unit. There were about ten ancient wrought iron cribs, hosting one or two babies each, in an area approximately 12’ x 12’. Mothers were huddled beside most of these children so there was just room for us to walk through.

The emergency ward was equally crowded with people sitting on any available chair and space on the floor (other than a relatively narrow pathway). People waited, some rocking and groaning while others attempted to provide comfort. One older woman who looked to be in the last stages of life was in a rickety trolley pushed by two ward aides. Most others had looks of resignation on their faces. Compared to any Western standards, conditions were appalling and impossible to capture in words. You’d have had to breathe it…see it.

Some words that DO paint rather bold pictures, though, came from my nurse-friend who led us on the whirlwind tour:

“If I worked in maternity here, there’s no doubt I’d have HIV in a matter of months.”

“The morgue is over there. The bodies are just piled up…”

“When I came to claim (a baby)____’s body, there was a pile of babies’ bodies I had to go through to find his. It was horrible.”

Her reflections on the emergency ward are equally poignant as she recounted the time she had to walk over a dead body to get through this area.

“There is never enough oxygen. They don’t order enough. On weekends more babies die because they run out of oxygen.”

Then I think back on my friend's story of the most recent death she had to deal with and this connection to QEII …. The beautiful little one who died last week was found on the side of the road. Unfortunately she was just too weak and struggling, and died in my friend's arms. She had taken the baby home with her to die rather than leaving her to languish at QEII. In fact the doctor on duty that examined the babe sent the little one home saying she was fine while she was, in fact, in kidney failure.

Yes, failures. They happen in many ways, and QEII is such an obvious indication of a government that for whatever reason (and the reasons are likely varied and very complex) is failing to deal with the overwhelming health problems in its country.

Not too far from QEII is the new Ministry of Health complex that is being constructed. In sharp contrast to QEII, it is huge and looks very modern. It will be MOST interesting to tour that building when it is complete just to see how much of a contrast it will be. I wish I could have taken pictures, but even just to get in the hospital without being asked to leave was somewhat surprising and I felt fortunate to have my curiosity at least partially satisfied.

Wendy

Thaba Bosiu

This weekend, August 11-12, has been a very busy one for us. The weekend began on Friday night was a braai (barbecue) at the home of Beautiful Gate’s director. The braai was to celebrate 4 birthdays that occurred in a one week period, and to say farewell to a couple and their family from Michigan, USA. They are returning home on August 14.

Then, on Saturday, we headed to Bloemfontain with the young couple who moved into the small house. (The trip to Bloemfontain provided grist for another story, but for another time.) On the way home we stopped in Ladybrand, a small South African town that is a 20 minute drive from Maseru. There we met up with folks for another dinner. One of the birthday folks was an Australian fellow and a couple of his expatriates had invited a significant portion of the Australian expatriate community, and others, to the ‘Greedy Goose’ to celebrate the birthday. It was a full evening of visiting and good food. (The Greedy Goose is certainly one place I will recommend to any one who might visit.)

But the highlight of the weekend was today’s (Sunday’s) visit to Thaba Bosiu. After the two nights of indulging in food, it was good to get out and do a hike. Thaba Bosiu is the most significant historical site in Lesotho. Before hiking up we were given a brief history by a local guide from the visitors’ information centre. Below I have augmented his information with some information derived from the Internet.

The history of Lesotho is actually very recent. “In the early 19th century, tribal groups fleeing from the violent Zulu King Shaka found refuge in the high Maluti Mountains. One group under Moshoeshoe I successfully defended the flat-topped sandstone plateau of Buta-Buthe Mountain for two years before relocating to Thaba Bosiu.”

“Moshoeshoe travelled from Butha-Buthe to Thaba Bosiu in 1824, fleeing the attackers that had terrorised his people. Butha-Buthe had been defensible but not impregnable, and Moshoeshoe sought a place that would be extremely difficult to capture. Thaba Bosiu was the ideal answer; its summit is surrounded by near–vertical cliffs, and good grazing and freshwater springs are be found at the top.”

Personnally, I didn’t think of the site as a mountain. The area appears to be part of an ancient plain with softer sediments underlying a 40 foot (12 meter) band of sandstone. In essence, Thaba Bosiu is another “flat-topped sandstone plateau” which has been isolated from the surrounding plain by water erosion. So, it is a quick steep climb to the top of a basically flat landscape about 4 square miles in area (10 square kilometres).

The following websites were sources of information. For those interested in more of the history of Lesotho, the first is probably the best.
http://www.malealea.co.ls/basotho_culture.html#thaba
http://www.go2africa.com/lesotho/lesotho/thaba-bosiu/
http://www.geoffstravelscrapbook.co.uk/main/reports/2002/lesotho2.htm

While the history was of interest (especially learning that Lesotho as a distinct territory has existed for less than 200 years) it was the quietness and natural state of the area that made it a most enjoyable afternoon.

It was a warm day with a gentle breeze. In places we sat on the edge of the sandstone cliffs and looked down on the serene villages below. The sounds of a lazy afternoon wafted up to where we sat on the outcrops; the clang of a cowbell, the crow of a rooster, the bark of a dog, or the voice of one Masotho calling to a neighbor. And at one spot the strains of music floated up on the wind from a home below.

I also enjoyed sitting and watching the pace of life passing by below - a herder leisurely tending his cattle; another person moving his donkeys along, one young boy trying to catch up to another on a long dusty trail, and others strolling along paths between villages. It was a most restful and relaxing day.

Looking out over the plains from the top of Thabo Bosiu.

Two shots of the sandstone outcrops overlooking the villages.

Two of the villages below Thabo Bosiu.

Two women returning to a village. And no, the dominant structure is not the round rondevels. I just happen to like photographing them.

I have been intrigued by the "trees" below, that seem to be everywhere. Today I had a close look, and what they appear to be is the flower of the large aloe vera variety that you can see at the bottom. It seems that the aloe vera puts all or its energy into the huge flower and then dies, as at the base of each "tree" was a dead aloe vera.

Two shots taken from within the few ruins of houses that remain at the top of Thabo Bosiu. Another surprise for me was to learn that these "traditional" stone homes have only been about for somewhere around 150 years when Irish settlers in the area were welcomed by the Basotho, and then provide the Basotho with the training and technology to build the stone houses - first round ones and later, rectangular structures.

A couple of views of the top. On the right is the royal family cemetery. Members of the royal family of Lesotho continue to be buried here. Only the most recent deceased king has a grave marked with something more elaborate that these piles of stones.

My travelling companions on this trek. In total we spent an enjoyable and leisurely 2 1/2 hours exploring Thaba Bosiu.

~ Benno ~

Dignity

I was hoping that when I arrived here in Lesotho, that I would be able to walk to work. As walking to work has been a part of my routine for many years I was hoping to continue that practice here.

So yesterday I walked home from Beautiful Gate. I had scouted out a possible route, and was ready to try it. I knew it would be longer than my walk in Red Deer and it was. It turned out to be a 60 minute trek which included jumping over the open waste water outflow from the local garment factories, up some fairly steep paths, and through neighborhoods that are worlds apart.

The trek started amidst the cinder block homes I described in a previous note. Once across the wastewater outfall however, I found myself treading footpaths in a community with fewer roads, fewer services, and homes even less accommodating to my western eye than the cinder block homes. Yes, some were made of cinder block, but imagine row housing that resembles a motel, one room units, often separated by barely 6-8 feet from a second row of units. Other homes, still only one – at most two rooms, but made of rock, and yet a few others made of corrugated steel sheets. Water was available from the odd community spigot, but bathroom facilities were pit toilets.

And you never knew what to expect in each yard. Some, just a beaten courtyard sort of area with kids playing soccer with an improvised ball. Next door, housed in a corner of a yard in a make shift sty, a sow; other homes with large or small garden plots, one with a make shift trickle irrigation system – plastic pop bottles filled with water and planted upside down in the soil. Makeshift cattle sheds with a cow or two graced the “back” yard of a couple homes. And, in too many places, seepage from pit toilets or cattle pens was lying open to flies and children alike. Elsewhere piles of rubble scattered amongst the clutter marked a home, built long ago, that had fallen into disrepair and collapsed.

Yet within this cacophony of images, with the wind borne odors from the seepage and the nearby municipal sewage treatment plant, I was again humbled by the patience and dignity of the people who live in that neighborhood. Within their poverty I see a patient stoicism. Life is unbelievably difficult yet so many, each in their own way, are trying to create something a bit better. It may be the garden, the pig in her sty, the cow or a fewsheep, or the piles of building stones scavenged from collapsed houses or quarried from the boulders scattered on the mountainside on which they live.

I see this same dignity and endurance in the women carrying bags in each hand with another parcel or two on their heads slowly but surely walking to wherever it is they are going. Or in the ubiquitous wheelbarrows pushed along carrying some precious load, most often one or two twenty-litre containers of water. Yes, I know some of it is resignation - there is really nothing that will change their situation quickly. Yet I cannot help but be impressed and humbled by the determination and courage of the Basotho people. They face odds and obstacles that would lead most of us to despair and yet they carry on.

I also see this courage and determination in the run down buildings in another part of town. Here behind the battered doors and broken windows are entrepreneurs, running some kind of rudimentary enterprise, scrapping together a few dollars to feed their families. There are the street vendors, lined up side-by-side in parts of the city or scattered here and there on a street corner, but again doing something, often in difficult circumstances, to improve their lot.

And then there are the guys on the ‘bob cat’ crew. I have come to so appreciate these guys as I have worked along side them from time to time. Their work is hard physical labour, and for it they are paid about $6.15Can per day. Yet they gladly show up to work each day in their ragged clothes, shoes I would have cast away years ago, and most of them with a hearty greeting for all who pass by. They are grateful for the opportunity to replace a bobcat loader. (They are also amongst those who help me with my Sesotho and introduce me to new Sesotho phases.) I have so much respect for them.

So today I again made the trek home. I hope I can keep doing the trek a few times each week. The sights and smells are not always pleasant, but I need to stay in contact with people who have the courage and dignity to carry on in situations that would overwhelm many.

(I noted at the beginning of this treatise that the trek was through neighborhoods ‘worlds apart’. About two thirds of the way home, the dirt road connects with a paved one. A few simple houses, including a couple of tin shanties, run nearly up to the paved road, next door to mansions on the hillside. These are extremely nice homes, and one just being built appears more like a small hotel it is so large. I mentioned the disparity in a previous entry. It is stark and it is extreme, and it is one of the few things that thus far I find discouraging. Oh Lord, why?? Why do some have so much and others so little?)

~ Benno ~

Oooh Chilly!!

Last night the wind blew hard for most of the night. It blew in a cold front from the Capetown area. The result was rain this morning and a biting wind chill. It was cold, and it was so nice to wake up to the warmth of our coal heater.

Once I got out to Beautiful Gate it was a different story. Those poor babies were bundled up as were the staff. There are heaters in the baby rooms and they take the edge off the cold but it still was chilly.

And I have been wondering why everyone here works behind closed doors. Today I realized why. It keeps the heat in, especially the heat given off by their computers. The warmest office today was the admin office with three computers augmenting the electric heaters.

Meanwhile, in the open or common areas folks were bundled up in toques and parkas. It was one day I should have been wearing my long johns. I never realized how cold I could get when just sitting in a cold room, nor how much I took for granted central heating.

I trekked home today and that helped warm me up. And arriving home to the warmth of our heater was most welcoming after a cold day at the office.

The wind continues to blow, and I will await whether it blows in more cold or something a bit warmer.

Tomorrow I will add more about my trek home. It was an interesting walk.

~ Benno ~

The Community

For this entry I will try to convey, with photos, a sense of the community we are part of here in Lesotho.

Downtown Maseru - a very unimposing capital city.

Coming to Lesotho and knowing it was a poor country, I expected most folks to live in similar circumstances. How near sighted of me. Like every country and society, Lesotho has those who have more and those with less. As one young man I met in a poorer part of town ruefully noted as we looked up the hill to where the nicer home were, “The rich get richer and the poor poorer.” Where ever one goes, it seems that economic disparity exists as surely as death and taxes.

This picture is from near where the young man made his observation. The poorer folks build with grey cinder block (forground). The wealthier add coloured brick, or else cinder block which has been “stuccoed” and then painted. You can see the colour in the distance.

Many of the brightly coloured homes are very large also.

Cinder block homes. What appears to be vacant land the children are heading down in the picture below is actually the street.


And more often than not, if you live in a cinder block home, water is something you carry home.

There is a part of Maseru (I did not take pictures) that is very poor. The homes there make the cinder block homes look good.

The "row house" below is made of rocks, and is a step up from the poorest part of town, but a step down from the cinder block homes. Each window likely represents someone's one room home.
On Sunday we went for a drive out into the surrounding country. There we saw very few coloured houses.

Two scenes from a rural village. The homes, here
as in Maseru are spread out, not crammed together
like the shantytowns of Cape Town.

In the country we saw a number of traditional rondavels.









And then, I continue to be intrigued by the herders, out in the weather, wrapped in their blankets.

~ Benno~

Contrasts

Friday, August 3rd. I (Wendy) headed to Bloemfontein with three others: Allan, the construction foreman from Beautiful Gate (BG), Gerdine, the preschool coordinator from BG, and Brad, a teacher from Maseru Prep. Allan needed to pick up supplies so very thoughtfully invited us along. ‘Twas quite a lovely day, starting with a relaxed breakfast at a restaurant on the Waterfront (restaurant food is GOOD and relatively inexpensive), then on to shopping (mostly book purchases) at Mimosa Mall, then to a lovely lunch at yet another restaurant back at the Waterfront…

Little did I know we’d be having lunch with the King of Lesotho! Okay, well, he WAS in the same restaurant, only a few tables away, and within easy snooping sight ☺. I never would have recognized him; after all he was the MOST dressed-down of his entourage, but Brad has been at a birthday party for one of the princesses (his daughter and the King’s oldest daughter are in the same class at Maseru Prep and when the princess has a party EVERYONE in the class and the community gets invited), and Brad works out at the same gym that the King does. Yep, that’s part of the beauty of Lesotho: for a country, it really is like a small town. Where else in the world could these types of things occur?

‘Twas most interesting to observe; his body guards, in their snazzy black suits or dress pants and black leather dress jackets, sat around at various other tables, while the King in his informal slacks and sweatshirt top sat with his guests. According to Brad, both the King and the Queen are very nice and do not act is if they are ABOVE the people. The King readily mixes at social occasions, and in fact, he did recognize and say hello to Brad, in passing yesterday. It is no wonder, and wise, I would say, when you live in a small and very, very poor country, to behave accordingly.

After all, many of the King’s subjects live a life of poverty and frustrations, like the border wait that literally hundreds of them, and I, had coming back into Lesotho last night. Yes, I discovered that it IS very unwise to try to get through the border on a Friday evening when many Basotho that work in the Republic of South Africa (RSA) come home for the weekend. Oh my, I was a full two hours getting through.

I, however, appreciated the chance to experience what many Bosotho experience OFTEN. How they deal with the frustration so patiently is amazing…or perhaps unfortunate. I had MUCH pause to think about justice and social action. What is the fine line between patient acceptance and positive social action? Needless to say, I was plotting a field trip with my students—just a day at the border crossing, interviewing various people…Mightn’t that be enlightening?

I was enlightened in many ways. It was interesting to stand in a line as long as my eye could see and be the ONLY white person. It was interesting to watch as the King’s entourage (three cars) went sailing through with sirens and flashing lights. It was interesting to chat with those in line around me, finding them at first rather cool and aloof, but warming to my good cheer ☺. In fact, one young woman who’d been rather reticent gave me a smile and a wave goodbye as I passed her upon leaving. It was interesting to visit with a young couple whose little son will celebrate his third birthday the same day I celebrate my 49th! It was interesting to finally get home, exhausted, and while luxuriating in a hot tub, wondering at how many of those in the long line would be going home to no running water and little to eat…

On the edge of my comfort zone, life here is very interesting!

Wendy

August 02

Let me try this again. Yesterday I was experiencing more computer challenges and in my consternation I inadvertantly deleted the entry I had prepared for our blog. So, back to Lesotho: The major news for today is that we have moved. We were just beginning to find ways to take the chill off the evenings in our little house, and now we are off to something different.

The "little house" is the right half of this duplex.

There is a young couple here who are also volunteers at Beautiful Gate (BG). They were living in the larger BG staff house, the one where 3-5 folks live, and where there are only single beds. They asked if we might consider trading places. So now they are in the little house with the double bed, and we are in the big house.

But, while Wendy and I are now sleeping in different beds there are advantages to living in the big house. The big house has a coal heater!! What a difference!! Now if we don’t carefully damper the heater the house gets too hot. So, no longer are we sitting around in blankets or with our coats on. (The Wendy and Dylan pictures are the ones from Jo’burg that I finally have found a way to compress and load.)

Other advantages: Wendy now has a garden. She is pleased with that, though she may be looking to hire a local gardener to assist with learning what flowers to plant. In addition, the big house is on a hill (the little house is in the valley) so we get more sunshine in the morning and the evening.

Our new home, the "big house".

Currently we have one room mate and the longer term plan is that Wendy and I will manage the large house including the little outside guest room. Once we fix up and set up the guest room, it will be available (at a most modest cost) for folks visiting BG or their friends here in Maseru.

The warm glow of burning coal. :) :)

Other news: The Director has been away so my exact role remains undefined until his return. In the meanwhile I am finding work to do, including joining the bob cat crew. The construction effort continues to be a major focus, so I have no problem helping out where I am able.

The weather here in Maseru is as I came to suspect from tracking it from Red Deer the last couple of months before we left. There are no drastic day to day changes like is normal in Alberta. Rather, what we had today will likely be pretty close to what we can expect tomorrow, plus or minus a couple of degrees. The past week has been like an extended Indian summer. Frost, minus 2-5 C, at night, cool crisp mornings, and warm mid teens blue sky afternoons. I am so enjoying the weather. But, I also understand the bit of underlying anxiety of the locals.

Last year they had a severe drought. And while the clear blue skies are nice now, they are anxiously looking forward to the rains arriving in September. But August looks to be more of the same, only slowly warming up. Now that I do not have to bundle up in front of the heater when I get home I am fully enjoying the cool, sunny days.

‘Til, next time.

~ Benno ~