So after a hectic holiday season, despite the fact it felt nothing like the holidays, I am settling back into site, with my share of bumps along the way. First of all, right after returning from vacation I had to turn right back around and go spend a few days in Maseru for our All Volunteer Conference. Then, as always there is this emotional part that comes along with the reality of living in Africa, which causes shock after being away from a while. Finally the addition of new chores around the clinic center have been welcomed and dreaded.
So our volunteer conference, as you can well imagine was, minus the sessions where we learned of new policies and such, was nice to get to see all of the volunteers and get to party with them, as there is rarely a Peace Corps gathering where we don’t do our share of partying. But speaking of policy changes, I’m actually really proud to be a part of Peace Corps Lesotho right now because they have officially spear headed one of the newest changes in Peace Corps policy, and one that was once quite controversial. Peace Corps Lesotho has begun to allow HIV positive volunteers to volunteer. This is a big deal because the policy before this was that a)if you were HIV positive you would not be medically cleared to be in Peace Corps and b) if you contracted HIV while in country doing service you would be immediate medically separated. I would suspect this had to do something with insurance and liability, however I guess they got that all sorted out or decided to take the risk and took the plunge and are now allowing HIV positive volunteers to serve. The policy hasn’t been completely written out yet but it is in the works and I am quite anxious to see what they come up with in regards to this subject. Despite the obvious medical steps that need to be taken, I think this is absolutely wonderful. We are out here combating stigma against HIV/AIDS and not allowing those who have the disease to participate in this action? They are a huge resource and prime role model for those here who are positive that it is able to live a normal, non-stigmatized life with HIV/AIDS. Most of the Basotho that I have come in contact with don’t believe that white people can get the disease, but now those volunteers, that wish to be open about their status are now able to tell others about it and relate to them. So with PC Lesotho pioneering this policy change, I am very proud to be apart of this organization, a little disappointed that it has taken this long to change the policy, but nonetheless happy to be here when such changes are taking place.
I have a lot to talk about today, so I am going to stop with that and move on to the next, the harsh reality that is living in Africa, especially when it comes to gender specific issues. As most of you know who have been following my blog know that it is hard to be a woman here sometimes because of the unfair gender inequality that takes place in Lesotho. This really struck home last week after I had a conversation with one of the house keepers here at the clinic. She came up to me one day to apologize to me for not having paid me back the money I lent her so she could buy her daughter’s graduation photos. I told her no big deal and that she could pay me back when she got the chance. She then replied that it might not be for a while because she hadn’t been to work for a while because her husband had beat her so badly she wasn’t able to walk properly or move around with out being in pain. I almost broke into tears hearing this. This woman is one of my good friends here and to hear what she went through with her husband astounded me. She told me that one day a taxi driver told her husband that she went to a neighboring village to go “visit” with another man, which was a blatant lie and, I think she said she just had to go to town that day and simply wasn’t home. So her husband came home in a rage to find her there, she tried to explain that the taxi driver was lying but he wouldn’t hear it. So he beat her. She showed me the bruises and still after two weeks they reached from her hip to her knee on both legs and were still dark blue. After that she went to stay with her family for a week and wasn’t at work. I asked her why she didn’t call police or anything, she said this is the first time he had ever done this but if he ever did it again she would call police. I told her she should have called the police the first time. But I guess that is my American perspective. I’m actually pretty surprised she left him for a week to scare him and that she threatened that if it happened again she would call the police. I heartily agreed with this decision. But situations like this just suck, because there is so little a woman can do, if she fights back he’ll beat harder and more often to “keep her in her place“, if she leaves him she is seen as a whore because she is divorced, if she contacts the police, they probably won’t do anything. This infuriates me, it is one thing to constantly hear about it in trainings and from other volunteers but it is quite a different experience when it happens to some you personally know and are friends with. Grrrrr, I was pretty angry for a couple of days after that and whenever I see her husband I want to go kick him in the crotch, which I can’t do but I do give him the evil eye whenever I see him, take that!
Well after that blow I was quite unhappy for a while, especially with my job which has been kept me locked up in an office, which sucks because I came to Africa hoping to avoid the office. But I have found a new chore that gets me out of the office and is something I have always wanted to learn how to do. One of the farm assistants here has decided that it is his personal mission to teach me how to milk a cow. I now milk the cow with him everyday in the morning at 8:10 and in the afternoon at 4:10. It is actually pretty fun. I like getting to know the cow and it opens up this whole new cultural exchange between me and Ntate Fusi, the farm assistant teaching me. We talk about farm practices in Lesotho and I the U.S. and the different uses for milk in both countries as well. I really want to teach him how to make cheese because it will help the milk last longer and people here really like it but it is too expensive. Anyways, I’m sure you are so curious as to the name of my new found friend, the dairy cow at Paballong. Since the Basotho don’t name their animals real names because they think it implies a sexual relationship between the owner and the animal (why I don’t know and I mean come on, that’s just a little ridiculous) so they named her “Phothoho,” which means “community gathering in Sesotho. I however named her different. She is a dairy cow, the iconic American dairy cow, the ones I see every time I drive home to St. Libory. So being way to ethnocentric, I gave her a new, American name. I call her Katy. However in a very different spirit did I name her two calves, which are both male, and these ones are the official names because Ntate Fusi let me name them because they had no names. I named one Zvyde, which is a Polish name, and Claus, which is obliviously German. I had to pick obscure real names so they wouldn’t think anything weird is up and, as I often do, I pulled from my own heritage, thus Zvyde and Claus came into being. I think they are good names and they will stick.
Well that’s about it for this week, sorry to be kind of “Debbie Downer” with all the sad stuff, but hey TIA (“this is Africa”) so I guess I best accept the reality of this place. Have a great week and a wonderful day!!!! Salang Hantle!
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