You Can Call Me Al

I have always attracted nicknames, I could fill a page with just the ones my father has given me, so it is right that I would have one in Lesotho. And volunteers were just about as creative as the Basotho when they decided on the abbreviated form of my name, Al. A few folks back home called me this, however with the plethora of more creative titles for myself; it was limited to family members and those too lazy to vocalize “Allison” or lacking the creativity to come up with a new one. It is with this name that I have gone through my Peace Corps service and the more it is used the more I feel I have grown into being “Al.”
Technically every blog post is about me, and, more specifically, a meaningful experience. This one will be no different; however, I am also taking this post to reflect on how I have changed. I knew I would change, and I knew there was a chance it would be significant, however, I know now that since I am realizing my changes it is hitting home that they have happened. Instead of just drowning on about how I am different and any kind of Damascus Road experiences I will simply illustrate with a few instances. Scenario 1: Crossing the Maseru Bridge Border Gate into South Africa and being called “Mahoua” (an offensive term for a white person in Sesotho) by none other than Lesotho’s bravest, a police man. Pre Peace Corps Allison would probably have drooped her shoulders and try to pass by without causing more of a disturbance. Not now. In a recent instance crossing the bridge I said “hell no!” and shouted back “Mosotho, Mosotho!” This was in attempt to call out the man on being offensive and give him a taste of his own medicine. Although, this plan slightly backfired when he began laughing and yelled back “You are one of the Peace Corps?” In which case I laughed and replied, “Why yes I am.” Scenario 2: While on the taxi at a stop a boy knocks on my window and once I look he straight up gives me the finger. While Pre-Peace Corps Allison would probably have broken down and cried and then wallow in the pity of the situation. When that did happen, instead of sending me into a flood of tears, I instead went into deep thought about how messed up that is that you give up so much to get the bird in a taxi, then shrugged it off and comforted myself with the fact when I go home I will get a car and never have to deal with African public transport again. Scenario 3: Recently a study has come out about a potential AIDS vaccine that was done in Thailand and had significant results in preventing people from converting. Pre-Peace Corps Allison would have reveled in the scientific advances of such a discovery. Now, what happened here is I read the article in the office with a few other volunteers and all we were able to focus on were the negative aspects of the trial: the ethical issues, the fact that it worked on the strain specific to Thailand and therefore those effects may not translate to Africa, the influence of different lifestyles in the population, and etc. Scenario 4: Waiting 3 hours for your bus to fill up and leave. Pre Peace Corps Allison would have gotten so frustrated and probably would have dropped a significant amount of money on a private ride. Now, I gladly wait because it means 3 solid hours where I don’t have to work and can just sit, listen to my iPod and people watch. So, I guess what I am really saying is one major change is that I’ve developed a somewhat different sense of humor and am more patient than prior to this. I was actually hoping for this change. I have a feeling that this will be helpful in years to come.
Other changes center around my perspective of life in both America and Africa. Realizing that America is A-OK and that Africa for all its shortcomings and hardships is truly an endearing place. A major change in my perspective on Africa would definitely be the realization of the dichotomy in behavior that exists here. Never before have I been so openly welcomed and so distrusted at the same time. The same people that constantly plead to me for food and money, refuse, and I mean blatantly, out right, refuse to believe me when I explain to them that eggs are a fantastic way to get a day’s protein and will not make the young girls boy crazy. Also the way things that are so easy become so difficult and the way things that are so difficult can become so easy. For instance, getting my library to have shelves, I had told them over 8 months ago at the school to get shelves to put books on, I foolishly thought this would be no problem, being that most people have been begging for jobs and carpenters are aplenty, anyways they are just now up. However when I wanted to teach life skills I just walked up to the school one day, and I thought this was going to be challenging, and offered my services and in a week I was on the schedule. And you know how when you don’t have a car it can be difficult to get places, here not so much, as long as you have time. I literally can walk into the taxi rank, put on a confused face and pick any place in Lesotho and I will be shown the taxi right away, no problem, however I may have to wait a while, which I have already mentioned I enjoy, so there you have it. There are strange turns of events all over this place.
Other perspectives of Africa have altered in a way you could maybe only understand if you have been here. It is not all deep red sunsets silhouetting a baobab tree, it is not cute little kids taking your hand and walking you home (well they may they just will ask for candy and money at the end), it is not the exciting hustle and bustle in a city chock full of ethnic markets but rather a stressful attempt to go unnoticed, and work is not flooded with motivated people wanting to improve their situation in life instead it is you grasping at straws and failing more times than not. I have come to realize, Africa is the way Africa is for many reasons, it is the emotionally draining yet charming place that has resulted from attempt after attempt to make it become something that it is not. You love it for the same reasons you hate it. There are those you just want to rescue and then there are also those people that you think “no wonder Lesotho is like this” because of them. You love the landscapes yet they are the cause of environmental problems and getting out into the mountains is a freakin’ bitch. Not only could I go on forever about this, but I know I will find this no matter where I go. I guess the thing with Africa, for myself, is that significantly affected my perspective is that, and this is hard to admit, that while excuse after excuse could be made for Africa and how it has been transformed and that no matter how much money is poured in here, success is completely on the shoulders of the African people and while struggle as some may, and this may apply only to Lesotho but things aren’t working, which is kind of a rude awakening because on some level I thought they genuinely were. There are so many reasons why they don’t work, but what is really disappointing is that people don’t seem to do too much about it, it is the complacency that is both heartbreaking and frustrating. But, like I have said before this place torments you, and despite this it is still such an endearing place. What makes it endearing is that here hope is kind of a real thing, you know it. I always felt that at home hope was this word people threw around rather liberally, it was true in some cases, like life or death ones, but other than that rather shallow. But here you get a better description of it. It has become more real and much more important, because it is clung to and endangered.
Africa is a strange place, and I am also quickly realizing that America is a strange place too. I mean, do you really need to pay $14 for a half pound of cheese? NO. But I know I still will. That’s strange. It is also strange how Americans have this underlying need to help people. You don’t see that from many other nations or people. It is a strange thing and a good thing, if done properly. It is also strange in that how friendly Americans are. In comparison to other westerner’s the Basotho have generally liked Americans more, not because of money, looks, and successes but just because we are friendly, which again is a good thing. There are other things, but maybe it is because I don’t have them as often, and this is stuff like with all of our communication opportunities why we don’t take the time to talk more with people, or why we don’t take a minute to relax. I kid you not; one of the hardest things for me to do has been to learn to take a minute to relax and push the guilt of unproductive time out of my mind. I’m coming around though, about a week ago I relaxed for approximately 47 minutes. But hey, I’ve always been a little strange myself I guess, which may influence the Basotho’s image of Americans after being around me for two years.
All of this is brought to light with my fast approaching visit home. You know it is exciting and kind of stressful. While I can’t wait to be home and be around people that I have always known, that is also a bit of the worry. I know I haven’t changed beyond recognition, but you can’t come away from this place without carrying it with you, just as any experience. And I would have been rather foolish to come here and not expect to be changed, so I guess I got what was coming to me.
Anyways, looking back on this blog it has been kind of spacey and long winded. But I’m tying it all together, or will attempt to. So onward to this blog’s namesake. You may know the Paul Simon song “You Can Call Me Al.” I was listening to it the other day and it is rather relevant. About feeling your life is hard, losing role models, being in a strange place. Listening to the song again (well and again and again, it is so much fun, I mean it has my name in it), and with the obvious link, it again kind of brought home these thoughts of not broken but altered perspectives, the way I’ve thrown myself into strange place and how things just aren’t what they seem. So if you get a chance, listen to the song, I rather like it.
With that all being said, take care. I hope the autumn there is very nice, here it is practically summer and fantastic. I no longer freeze and it is sunny and the rains are beginning, so Lesotho is transforming into a green landscape. So have a great weekend! Salang Hantle!