Dear Family and Friends,
Being back in Lesotho is a tapestry of mixed emotions and images. In many ways it is as if I never left; the breath-taking mountains, the warm friendships, the laughter and joy of the villagers upon our arrival contrasting so gut-wrenchingly with the extreme poverty all around us.
Patty and I arrived in country on Friday night. That is one long plane ride – 23 hours. After customs we picked up our car, or rather, truck – a huge Toyota 4×4 that seats five in the cab and has a big truck bed in the back. We’d ordered a Nissan 4×4 SUV but what the heck. This monster has been serving us well. It is the rainy season here so the roads are terrible.
After stopping in Buthe Buthe, a typical noisy, crowed, dirty camp town to pick up a bunch of frozen chickens for gifts, we headed to the village of Mate, home of the head chief of this district, Morena Halejoetse Selebalo. An elder of the village joined us in the truck to direct us to the chief’s home. People here expect a truck to be able to get anywhere. I was skeptical. The paths were narrow and deep in mud as slick as glass. We made it to his place and had a very good meeting with him – he gave his blessing to the well project, thanked us and pledged his support. His wife was thrilled with the chickens. On the way out of the village we got horribly stuck in the mud. It took many villagers to get us out.
We were supposed to meet an important Community Council official, Ntate Molise Faratsi, on our way to Menkhoaneng but somehow missed him. We arrived in Menkhoaneng, the village where the well will be located, late in the afternoon. There is no actual road to the village. The way there is mostly either dirt path, rocks or mire with many deep dongas (erosion trenches) to navigate. There were times that it seemed our truck would surely tip over. On the way we’d picked up many passengers. The truck was jam-packed so at least we had traction – and encouragement and people to push. Our welcome in the village was wildly enthusiastic. Within moments of arriving we were surrounded by old friends, singing, dancing and ululating in welcome. We handed out the chickens to the chief and to M’e Matjeeka, the head of the family I’d lived with and had one chicken left. We gave it to the little woman who had the bizarre and tragic distinction of having been chosen as the sex partner for the boys in circumcision school. Have I told you about this unfortunate custom? Sex education is part of the training boys receive in circumcision school. The village chooses one woman, usually an older, impoverished widow to participate in this part of the training. The reward for her is that she will never starve to death. She can, for the rest of her life, visit any hut in the village and receive food. This sweet and I think psychologically damaged lady often visited my hut. She would sit on the floor and eat the huge bowl of food I had given her. Sometimes she was with me for days at a time – from morning ‘til night. She never spoke. When Patty and I arrived in the village she came up to us and kissed us – a very unusual behavior here. Patty immediately went to the car to give her the last chicken – she held the bag in the air and danced wildly as all the women sang an ad hoc rendition of “Aren’t we glad M’e Peggi’s back in town.”– it was quite joyous.
I held had a very quick meeting on the well project with chief and elders while Patty took photos with her digital camera and showed the villagers the immediate results. We had to tear ourselves away to get down the mountain before dark. It was a white-knuckle ride all the way – at times we were simply sliding – completely out of control. When we finally got to the place we’re staying for the next few days we drank a lot of wine.
On Sunday we had several objectives. One was to attend a church service at the Catholic Church in Mate. Although this is not at all a religious mission we’re on our sister Penny and her deacon –husband Jim had given us bags of beautiful rosaries made by retired nuns. They also gave us holy cards and many other gifts for the villagers. I can’t tell you the enthusiasm with which these gifts were received. The rosaries, in a plastic Meijer shopping bag were placed on the altar beside the chalice. Father Charles rejoiced, praising these “blessed gifts from our friends in America”. Everyone sang and danced and lined up to receive their rosaries. Patty and I, assisted by several women of the Altar Guild, passed them out while Father Charles put ashes on everyone’s foreheads to comemorate Lent. He told us they would all pray for us every day – it can’t hurt.
After the service we once again went to find Molise Feratsi. We located him at his home and had a very good discussion on the well project. Molise pledged to make sure all the government officials in the area are aware of and in support of the project. They are having their big monthly meeting on Tuesday and invited us to attend – we, of course, will.
Tomorrow, Monday, we can finally begin negotiations with the well-digging experts bidding on the job. The first person we’re hoping to see is a geologist who will help us locate the best place to drill.
As usual, this letter is too long. I’ll write again in a few days when, hopefully, we have some real progress to report.
It is great to be back in Lesotho!
Khotso, Pula, Nala! (peace, rain, prosperity)
Peggi
