Babies and Bom'e

M’e: (pronounced meh) a woman who has borne a child; the term used when greeting such a woman, akin to Mrs. or Ma’am.

Bom’e: the plural of M’e, though my spelling of Bom’e is suspect.

Now, babies and Bom’e.

These three tiny bundles are all under 3 kilos, but
they are aged 9 weeks, 4 months, and 10 days.

The Bom’e who care for the babies are the heart and soul of the staff at Beautiful Gate. Theirs is a most demanding role, and as I noted in my last entry, one that pays barely more than $100 Canadian per month. The target child-to-Bom’e staffing ratio at Beautiful Gate is five babies to one BoM’e. That seems like a lot of babies to me. But for comparison, the legislated maximum allowed ratio for children (not babies specifically) to care givers in South Africa is 12 children to 1 caregiver. Another NGO here in Lesotho that is doing a good job works with a ratio of 10 to 1, though the children range in age from 0 to 14 years. And then there are centres that basically provide a bed and two meals a day to orphaned children, and where there are no target ratios and it is really children caring for children. But at Beautiful Gate our target is 5 babies to one Bom’e.

At the moment we are having a struggle with the ratio. The moratorium on adoptions means that babies are not moving on to families, which means our numbers are growing, and quickly, relative to past growth. This means that during a time when we are seeking to reorganize from a move, and to bring greater structure to the organization we continue to grow, rapidly. Teams and shift schedules are changing before staff have fully adjusted to their new team mates. And new staff will shortly be joining the teams. It is a time of ongoing change, not something I had anticipated.

It was only at the beginning of September we had to add another Bom’e to each care team to stay close to the 5:1 ratio. This greatly depleted our pool of relief staff. But before we could strengthen that pool and get new staff trained, another challenge arose to confront us. That challenge is that the public hospital is not a safe place for abandoned babies.

Like in so many non-western hospitals it is family, staying in the hospital, who provide the day-to-day care of patients - things like meals, bathing, changing clothes. (Hospital staff mainly provide the medical care.) An abandoned baby has no such family. As a result they languish, provided but minimal care by hospital staff. Abandoned babies frequently die in hospital. (It was the plight of just such abandoned babies that led to the establishment of Beautiful Gate in 2001.) The Department of Social Welfare has been aware of our growing pains and has not overwhelmed us with more babies. They have either sent some to other orphanages ill- equipped to deal with infants or just left the babies at the hospital.

When the Director of Beautiful Gate recently learned of this we were faced with a tough decision. To start taking more babies maybe before we were ready, or leave them to languish. The decision was to prepare to accept more babies. That was the challenge the leadership team faced late last week. How do we quickly accommodate five tiny babies languishing at the hospital? Five more babies mean one more Bom’e per shift. The new "relief" workers start next week and it will be training on the job is a very real sense. The first two babies arrived from the hospital on Friday.

Those are our challenges, but here are some of the Bom’e in action with their babies.

"Babies,babies, babies ...

...but don't mess with them. We are fiercely protective!"

"Me and my M'e"

More than a handful.

"Come on now. Smile for the camera."

"Maybe it is a new M'e, but I'm still not going to smile."

Peek-a-boos in the background.

"Little one, you are so loved."

"Let me wipe that tear."

"Be gone, oh camera man. Can't you see we are busy ...,

... we have babies to bathe."

"Thank-you, Bom'e."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In Memoriam: Last night Tsepiso died at Beautiful Gate. A week ago she had been transferred from an orphanage ill able to meet an infant’s needs. She was the little one, 9 weeks old, who arrived weighing less than 3 kilos. On Friday night she became ill and began to vomit up her milk. She was so tiny and fragile that she was not able to recover from the loss of fluids and nutrition. She died early this morning.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I had intended to make part of this entry an unabashed plea on behalf of Beautiful Gate. I can’t.

Yesterday Wendy visited the orphanage which Tsepiso had arrived from. Wendy came home in tears. The need there was overwhelming. That home basically provides a place to stay for some 100 children and young adults aged 0-21. It is all the home and the only home that many of the residents have known, and a filthy mattress on the floor and two meals a day, mainly cooked maize meal and cabbage, is better than the street. That orphanage is basically run with a handful of care givers, the older children, a few part-time volunteers, and two incredibly amazing, committed Canadian girls from La Crete, Alberta. (I say girls because they are barely 20 and 21 now, and they have been here for the better part of a year.)

So, how can I plead the case for Beautiful Gate or even Lesotho? What Wendy and I are seeing here is repeated over and over and over in the non-western world. The need here is nothing special when compared to other parts of our world. So, all I ask is that amidst the busyness of your lives, that you consider some agency, somewhere, doing some good thing, and consider how you might support their work. As for Beautiful Gate, I will just have to trust that the God who provided a tonne of food to help out our wonderful Bom’e, will also meet our every other need.

When she returned from her visit to the orphanage yesterday Wendy put it so succinctly for us both. She said, “Lord, thank-you. Thank-you that we did not miss the opportunity to be where we are, and to see and experience the things that we are experiencing.”

~ Benno ~

Down and Up

A week ago I was feeling down. It was no surprise. My reading and preparation for coming to Lesotho predicted that such times would occur. But, it was interesting that the catalyst for my feeling down was the blessing of the tonne of food.

The tonne of food is creating some storage problems for us and that has annoyed some of my colleagues. So that was a bit of a discouragement. Then, my enthusiasm for utilizing the food in a possible community outreach was shot down by the team I am working directly with. That leadership team of Basotho women had a number of reasons why such an approach would create little more than headaches and besides, they noted, some of those we helped would just sell the food to buy beer. They also felt that our first responsibility needed to be to our own staff. My aspirations of supporting a community outreach initiative to child headed or grandmother headed households had come crashing down.

The bit about the beer was the probably the most discouraging for me. It was a repetition of a theme I have oft’ heard since arriving; Basotho people denigrating other Basotho people. We are lazy. We can’t be trusted. We steal from and take advantage of one another. We would rather work for a white person than a Basotho person....

So I dragged myself home and had myself a little pity party. "What difference will I really make here?" Like every other international volunteer, I too will leave. Did I really expect that my opinions and ideas might count with or influence the Basotho staff? Why couldn’t I have a stronger team? Ones like those I enjoyed back at home, folks who made things happen. How can I believe in Basotho people’s potential if they don’t even believe in each other? This could be a long two years.

But the difference a week makes.

First, I said to myself that despite my discouragement I would respect the position of the Basotho staff regarding the food. Then I checked out how much Beautiful Gate really is able to pay its staff. That was a bit of a surprise. I knew it wasn’t a lot, but I learned it was less than I had imagined - not a lot more than the minimum wage of 650R per month. Now 650R, with the loonie soaring, is less than $100 Can, and even with the bit more that they receive, the majority of our staff are only earning just over $100 Can per month. Yes, I thought, the team was correct, it was appropriate to support our own staff, rather than scatter the food to where it really will not make a significant difference.

Then, that same leadership team came through. They are making a difference and making things happen. At our Wednesday leadership team meeting there was energy around reviewing the previous week’s minutes (that didn’t often happen back home!!). As we came to each action item they eagerly related what they had done and the outcomes that had resulted. Their commitment and enthusiasm was infectious.

Then the end of the week brought a very significant challenge, but they pulled together and came up with a plan. Hey, there are some loose ends, but it's a plan, and they are making a difference.

So on Friday I came home from work and I said, “Ke thabo fela,” - I am full of contentment. It was a great day, and a great week. In a near future entry I will talk about the significant challenge that staff worked though. Be warned though that it will include an unabashed appeal, asking you to consider the needs of Beautiful Gate.

~ Benno ~

Rain, Rain, Beautiful Rain

Pula e eana!!! (It is raining.)

Right on cue, the last week of September, the rain arrived. First a bit of a shower, an hour or so, on Wednesday morning, then around midnight Wednesday rain, rain, beautiful rain - a steady rain for the next eight to nine hours.

Walking with my umbrella I meet a young fellow who bursts out spontaneously, “It is raining.” It was fun to respond to him is Sesotho, “Pula e eana!” Then walking to work today there was activity in so many yards. Folks out turning the soil in their gardens, hope renewed, preparing now for a new season.

At work even the mud and muck in a still unfinished construction area did not dampen the enthusiasm.

Today was sun, mixed with the clouds. Perfect to allow the rain to soak into the ground nicely. Then, if the forecast is correct, cool and more rain over the next few day. After the weeks of dust and dryness, we will so soon again be singing, “Pula e eana!”

~ Benno ~

It's Not Canada, but ...

I know I’m not in Canada when the container of yogurt I got this week tastes different and is a different consistency than the same brand and variety I had last week. But then again, I can still get some pretty good yogurt here.

I know I’m not in Canada when on the grocery shelves there is pumpkin in varying shapes and sizes or even peeled and packaged, … every week. But you know, pumpkin as a vegetable, actually tastes pretty good.

I know I’m not in Canada when everywhere I look there seems to be garbage lying about. But, what if in Canada there was no municipal garbage pick-up, and I had no vehicle. I would not likely catch a taxi with my bags of garbage in hand and held for the dump across the city. No, my garbage would likely end up in a pit dug in the yard, or carried to a nearby ravine, or maybe just burnt in an open place with the cans and bottles ending up scattered about. (We are fortunate to have garbage pick-up in our part of town.)

I know I’m not in Canada, or at least not in Alberta, when every day the weather is basically the same as the day before. But really, maybe not experiencing three or four seasons in a single week (or day) isn’t a bad thing.

I know I’m not in Canada, or at least a Canadian city, when the crowing of the neighbors’ roosters is part of each morning. But it is rather fun for an old farm boy, living in a city, to awaken and hear a rooster crowing.

I know I’m not in Canada when I find myself stopped, in my car, at an intersection, waiting for a herd of cows to cross, before continuing onto a main city road. But, on a related note, road rage doesn’t seem to be as big an issue here. I do admit though, that one needs to be a defensive driver if just to be on the look out for the taxi drivers.

I know I’m not in Canada when I fine myself muttering that I wish the laughing doves would shut it down for a moment. But on second thought, it is a much nicer sound than the squawking of a magpie or cawing of a crow.

I know I am not in Canada, or at least not Alberta, when I hear folks say, “Ah, but it is a dry heat”, rather than “Ah, but it is a dry cold.” And you know, they may have a point. For the last while it has regularly been in the high 20C’s yet it has not been unbearable for this guy who thinks that 24C is hot, hot.

It’s not Canada, but … the first two months here have been quite enjoyable. I know I still have almost two years, but thus far it has been quite all right.

~ Benno ~

(If you are a bit bored and are looking for some more reading there is some interesting stuff on our son Dylan’s blog site. A few entries back he and a mob of kids were terrorizing their neighborhood with "di-hydrogen oxide". It is a fun read.)

God and Management Theory

This has been quite the week for me. On Monday I was reading one of Paul’s prayers. (Paul, as in the guy who wrote a bunch of letters that are in the Bible.) Paul was praying that the believers in Ephesus might “grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.” Paul then adds a benediction that includes the words, “to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.”

I happened to add my own little prayer. I wrote, “Lord, I ask that this pray of Paul’s be answered in my life.” I then added, “though I often do not believe you will do more that I can imagine.” Well, did I get an earful, so to speak.

In my last blog entry I mentioned the desire by Beautiful Gate staff to start a hot lunch program for the hungry little folks coming to the pre-school. I also mentioned the 800 kg of rice that showed up on Tuesday. Well today (Friday), 250-300 kgs of corn meal shows up. We at Beautiful Gate now have enough resources to reach beyond just the school children, and to consider an even bigger dream - to work with the community to identify child headed households or grandparent headed households whom we can support.

So where did the corn meal come from. That is where management practice meets God, or the other way around.

As I also mentioned in my last entry, I am developing role descriptions for staff here. The process I had chosen was to interview staff about their roles, ask them to describe what they do, and then I added a couple of “what if” type questions. One of those questions was, “If you could add one thing to your role what would it be?” The household manager buys the supplies we need to feed, clothe, and care for the children and is in touch with many shops and suppliers. Her response to this question was that she would like to promote to these businesses what Beautiful Gate is doing.

There is a management concept something along the lines that an organization is nothing more or less than the sum of its conversations. What the organization becomes, what culture develops, reflects the sum of the conversations between individuals and within groups. I had a conversation with the household manager. She contributed some thoughtful, meaningful ideas that she obviously continued to think about. On this week's trip out shopping (Thursday) her carried our past conversation into her conversation with a major supplier, commenting on the plan to reach out to the community by providing hot lunches to the pre-school children. That was all, another brief conversation.

Some would call it fate, or if you have read “The Secret”, some force of the universe, but after my Monday prayer, I say God got in on the action. First thing Friday morning the same supplier calls the household manager. “Get down here first thing, and bring a vehicle,” is the message. She arrives and they have waiting a number of bags (250-300 kgs worth) of corn meal with tears or punctures. The meal is still good but the bags are damaged and not salable. “For your community program,” she is told. Add in the rice and over a metric tonne of food was received in less than a week. That certainly is “immeasurably more than all” I could “ask or imagine,” and I am left just a bit unnerved and awed about what I might ask of God.

~ Benno ~

This and That

More signs of spring are appearing. A mother hen and her brood of chicks scurried across my path earlier this week. A cow grazing just off the road was heavy with calf, and on the walk to work there was a new calf is its little kraal. The peach blossoms are nearly over and amazingly, despite the desperate dryness, the grass is pushing up a few green shoots.

Work - I chuckle. I am so doing the same things I did at home - meetings, planning, writing job descriptions, developing policy, coaching and even holding a disciplinary hearing. Coming here I did not envision reading the local labour legislation to ensure that Beautiful Gate followed proper steps in the disciplinary process.

Dylan will be coming down next weekend, September 21. We are looking forward to his visit. Our plans include a hike, and taking in a polo match. Through Wendy’s school contacts I met a fellow from South Africa who trains polo horses. So, if I can follow his directions to some little out of the way place we will enjoy another experience I hadn’t anticipated when planning to come to Africa.

The windows of heaven opened. The pre-school teachers have been growing increasingly concerned about the lack of nutrition some of the children experience. They know some of the children arrive at school without having had breakfast and likely return home to nothing for lunch. The teachers want to start some kind of hot lunch program. Well today the windows of heaven opened. Quite some time ago, Beautiful Gate had submitted a proposal to World Vision. Staff forgot about the proposal, having received no response, until Monday, when we received a call that “our” rice was ready. Yesterday we picked it up, 800 kgs worth. As a faith based NGO we were rejoicing - “For your Father knows what you need before you ask him,” Matthew 6:8.

Our Dutch room-mate is moving out. She will be heading back to the Netherlands for a five week visit, and then will be returning to Lesotho but to serve with Youth With a Mission. So Wendy and I will have the house to ourselves (though still no double bed), but only for a week. In late September a volunteer from Australia will be coming for a short stint.

Last Sunday we had a good-bye for our roommate at our house. Wendy put together a wonderful lunch. It was a fun time that included some great singing in Sesotho. I got some pictures of the beautiful hair of some of the Basotho staff from Beautiful Gate who were over for the good-bye.


Hair this long is always extentions. Her natural hair is about 3 inches long. This turned into a bit of a hair party as two other gals were helping with completeing some of the braids. Long hair is a fashion desire for many young women, but the natural frizziness of their hair precludes long natural hair, so extensions are the way to go.





Short natural hair braided tight to the skin. Women seldom keep their natural hair more than a couple of centimeters in length unless braided tight like this woman's, or unless treated with a hair relaxant so that it is straight. Even when straightened it is seldom kept longer than a few inches.








More extensions, and this time to add lots of volume as well as length. Hair here can really be a work of art.











Sunday football (soccer), complete with referee, linesman and spectators. The human fans on my side of the field took a bit more interest than the ponies seemed to be. The lines on the playing field were just shallow gouges in the packed earth.


Children everywhere play house. These pictures were taken along my walking route to work. I was again reminded of the broken toys among the donations I was sorting through, the toys that I wanted to throw out. What looks a bit like a radio is just the broken front off of a discarded cassette deck.

~ Benno ~

More Odds and Ends

I am going to have to improve my wardrobe here. My Alberta work wardrobe would just barely cut it here, and most of that wardrobe didn’t make the luggage weight restrictions. (Interesting though, that the hiking and camping equipment made the short list.) Wendy notes she won’t even try to match the wardrobes of many young Basotho women. She observes that Basotho woman must have a considerable sense for esthetics, because they sure know how to dress, and then there are the exquisite designs the women work into their hairstyles. At least with hairstyles I am close to fitting in with most guys. If I were to just shave it all off at least once a month, you’d barely be able to tell the difference between me and them.


September 1st is regarded as the first day of spring here. The weather though seems to have jumped right to summer, at least the day time highs which have been reaching the high twenties. This is fire season on the high veld. There has been no appreciable rain since the end of the rainy season in April, and now it is the windy season to go with the hot weather and the tinder dry grass. Though, with the drought here last year, and the resultant overgrazing there is little grass left to burn here around Maseru. Not so across the border in South Africa with the Afrikaan farming practices. There the grass is not overgrazed and there is lots of grass to burn, so fire is always a concern until the rains arrive in late September.

Another sign of spring has been the peach blossoms. I though they were cherry blossoms because they are bright pink, but have been told that no, they are peach blossoms. Trees that do lose their leaves in the fall are also starting to green up with their spring growth.

Crossing into South Africa continues to be an interesting endeavor. Since we arrived here have been a number of changes in protocol, and where to queue. We had two options our last crossing, the long line and a 2-3 hour wait in the hot sun (we would have canceled our plans), or the short line (barely 15 minutes) for South African passport holders. Wendy joined that line and charmed our way through. Actually, she would describe her approach more as, “Just feign ignorance.” But, if it works …. Yet, I cannot help but feel for the Basotho (and on that crossing Botswana folks) standing in the interminable mid-day heat.

I happened upon a ‘Save-on-Foods’ grocery bag the other day. Something had traveled in it on the way over from Canada. I had an urge to save the bag in some special place, as a reminder of home. Should I be worried???

When not to worry - when a Basotho man comes up beside me and slips his hand into mine I need to relax and take it as a demonstration of friendship (but not that kind of friendship). I am grateful that Dylan had mentioned this African social convention earlier this year. So though surprised and a bit uneasy when it first happened here, I didn’t embarrass my new friend nor myself with a culturally inappropriate response

Does anyone know that the World Cup of Rugby begins next Sunday? Does anyone know where it is being held? Do any on you know who the first four seeds are? Does anyone one of you really care? This is rugby central down here - surrounded by South Africa. And then there are the Aussies I work with. These guys do CARE!!!! So whether I want to or not I do know the opening match is next Sunday, broadcast from France, where the top teams are considered to be New Zealand, South Africa, Australia, and France (though not everyone agrees on that order), and I know that Canada plays in pool B with Australia, Fiji, Wales and Japan. (We will see how much these guys know about curling come next March …)

That's it for todays grab bag.

~ Benno ~

The Mountain

"Silence requires the discipline to recognize the urge to get up and go again as a temptation to look elsewhere for what is close at hand. It offers the freedom to stroll in your own inner yard, and to rake up the leaves there and clear the paths so you can easily find the way to your heart. Perhaps there will be much fear and uncertainty when you first come upon the "unfamiliar terrain", but slowly and surely you will discover an order and familiarity which deepens your longing to stay home....... Whenever you come upon this silence, it seems as though you have received a gift, one which is "promising" in the true sense of the word. It promises new life. It is the silence of peace and prayer, because it brings you back to the One who is leading you." . . . . . . . . . Henri Nouwen

I know that quote is a bit to get one's head around. Each time I come back to this quote I still have to read it more than once to fully grasp what it is saying. Silence, and solitude. Spending time alone with oneself and with God. This weekend I entered this (for me) relatively “unfamiliar terrain”.

Shortly after arriving in Lesotho I was reading a book about a Zulu pastor, William Duma. Each year this man would spend three weeks in prayer and fasting. It was about that time that we had also went out to Thaba Bosiu, the mountain where the nation of Lesotho was born. I felt challenged. If Pastor Duma could spend three straight weeks alone with God, could I spend part of just one day each month? And the location would be Thaba Bosiu. Where better to wait upon God for the country of Lesotho, and to seek to better understand His purpose for me here, than where the country had it’s birth. So, September 01 was my first foray to the mountain alone.

Silence and solitude are often referred to as disciplines, and for a reason, I learned. What does one do, for eight hours, alone, on a flat topped mountain? It was a difficult day, made more so because I was struggling with a nasty respiratory virus Wendy had graciously shared with me. I admit it; I whiled away parts of the time dozing, most often on rocks, but once, luxuriously, on a shaded patch of grass. And, there was one somewhat humorous and ironic hiatus.

A source of tourist revenue in Lesotho is cross-country motor races. So, one of my dozing interludes was interrupted by the staccato whine of motor cross bikes. One leg of some cross-country race was passing by in the valley below me, and I was being treated to sounds more than a little incongruent with silence and solitude.

Now, did I have any deep and mysterious revelations on the mountain? No. Did I experience God is some more profound manner? No. In fact, is was tough just hanging in there (out there) for the time I had committed myself to. And yet … And yet, there were moments that I could not have experienced had I not taken this time to be apart. In those moments, maybe, just maybe, I had racked up a few leaves or cleared a bit of some path that will bring me closer “to the One who is leading [me]”.

Next month I fully intend to be back on the mountain.

~ Benno ~