Coming Back

So after my hectic trip back home I am finally settled back into the swing of things here in Lesotho and am finally getting a hot second to sit down and write a blog post. The day I got back I had a three day conference in Maseru, and then after that got back to my site, only to be met with a slew of work, that is still in full swing, but I am taking the morning to gather my thoughts and put them into a blog post. To top it all off, today I ran out of gas for my stove and need time to ease into the day, because my 6am coffee had to be postponed until 8am, and it is 8:30am right now. So I’ll put in every attempt to be coherent.
When I left Lesotho, I was so worried. I was worried about a plethora of things. Not being able to socialize well, not having anything much to talk about with people, not knowing any of the up to date news, missing my life and friends back in Lesotho and so on and so forth. Overall I think I got back into the luxury and conveniences of the western world just fine (we went to Target and to get my hair done, about 1 hour after I landed), and despite a few off statements, that are actually just inside jokes with my friends in Lesotho, I allowed to slip from my mouth before remembering that I was most definitely not in Lesotho any more, I did pretty okay socially. However I was completely out on any up to date news, both gossip, local, and national news. Mainly I am meaning things like celebrity gossip. I have no idea who half the people on MTV or Vh1 were. My sisters would talk about celebrities and would laugh at me because I knew none of that news. All of this being said, while I was at home, I rarely got the chance to think about Lesotho. When I was at home Lesotho felt so far away, another world away, and in all honesty, it is another world here. Being home made me realize just how different (some would say behind) Lesotho is from home. While at home it was so easy to focus on the good, and so easy to forget about Lesotho, even though, currently Lesotho is my home. At the same time, it reminded me of all those reasons I left, which helped in coming back, a little, at least.
On the flip side, while in Lesotho it is weird what you take with you from home. Depending on what mood you are in, as in you are ready to get the heck out of here; you remember all those wonderful things at home, like traditions, fountain sodas, people, weather, indoor heating/ac. On the flip side, when you are feeling good about being here, it is easy to focus on all those reasons you left home, making you never want to go back and in love with life in Lesotho (both instances are fleeting, and occasional, making them intense while they visit). But then you have those instances where homesickness slaps you in the face unexpectedly, whether by just smelling a scent that is familiar to one at home or a change in the weather can make you reminiscent of home. For instance on Sunday, while on my weekly phone call from home, I was sitting outside my house, near one of the orchards/vegetable gardens on the clinic compound, and right now the weather here is comparable to late July at home, but with plenty of rain. And as I was sitting there all I wanted to do was to grill something. The desire to be by a pool in the early evening with something on the grill with a crisp glass of wine was unmistakable, because when the weather is like that at home, I would bet you any money we would be doing something comparable to that. After recognizing that is what I was missing, it uncovered other feelings about being at home. Just the very simple stuff, that I took note to soak up while home. Things like dragging my bum out of bed to go to church on Sunday mornings, knowing I am doing it more for the brunch afterwards than the sermon at church. Or ignoring a beautiful summer day and locking myself in the basement to watch a Pride and Prejudice marathon on TV. It is these things I happily gave up and that are easy to forget while here, but nonetheless, sometimes they are the things I miss the most, I think it is because when I do these things when I am home, and it is comfortable at home. And by comfortable, I mean it is easy to forget about everything that doesn’t have to do with what is going on there. It was nice to not have to think about the despair in Lesotho for a full three weeks and I’m surprised and shocked how easy it was to forget it sometimes.
With all that being said, once I got back I was slapped in the face, full force by Lesotho once again. Yebo. The heat, the smell (I was greeted in the border taxi rank by a pile of rotting trash that must have been the size of house), the brash people, the inconsistencies, the African perception of time, and so on and so forth. I must say my first week met me with trials I already dealt when I first got here. I was getting so impatient for people to show up and angry when they were an hour late, which I know good and well to expect. It has been raining, so I’ve been hoarding my battery on my computer and iPod so that I can watch a movie or TV when the power will inevitably go out because, when it is cloudy, solar power doesn’t work to well. Or trying to dress nice every day, instead of the bum that I was dressing like (this change is probably one for the best). I’ve been getting bored way to easily, and as a result I have become more and more like Martha Stewart, as in this past weekend I made my own cheese (which I’m pretty proud of because not only was it tasty, but it didn’t make me sick). And a few other behaviors, that I brought back with me, which I’m sure the Basotho will whittle down until it disappears.
I guess my favorite wake-up call happened to me just yesterday, while on a taxi, which I can always count on for a good Lesotho experience. I’m the first one on the taxi, and I take, what I consider to be one of the better seats, the second row, on the seat closest to the window. Not five minutes after I sit down, this big, huge, hands down fattest Basotho woman I have ever seen sits down right in front of me. I don’t feel bad calling this woman fat, because when you are that big, there is absolutely no other way to describe a person. She was 200kg, easy, which is about 440 lbs. I was surprised by three things: 1) that she was still mobile, 2) that she fit into the taxi, and 3) that they still proceeded to fit two more people in her row. Now, the seats in taxis are consists of three 2 people bench type rows with a collapsible chair at the end so there is a way to get to the back and a 4 person bench type row in the back. There is next to no leg room between the benches, and you just have to deal with it, and normally, I am the tallest person on the taxi, so whoever sits in front of me gets my knees in their back. So when this big Basotho woman sat in front of me, not only did she move the bench (which are bolted in, but I’m pretty sure they were no match for her girth), but she broke the back rest of the bench and her 440lbs came crashing on to my knees. I blame papa and the Basotho habit of soaking everything in oil. To top it off, it may have been on the jankiest taxi I have ever ridden on. In order to get it to start, the taxi had to be pushed until it could be put in second gear and then there must have been a ventilation problem, because I’m pretty sure the only reason I could deal with the ride is because I was sniffing gas fumes the whole way to my home. And that was my welcome back.
So with that I will leave you to enjoy your weekend. Hopefully I will do the same, if this rainy weather ever lets up. So take care, and salang hantle!!