First Congregational UCC - Platteville

Dear friends and family,

I am currently shadowing a volunteer in Nata village in northern Botswana. While at the hotel in Philadelphia , a fellow trainee showed me an online video of the clinic at Nata, so I had a picture of the place in my head. Adding the smell and feel and taste is almost indescribable, but I will try.

Melody Jenkins (Mel) is our host. She is a fifty year old, single, no kids (by choice, she will have you know) second-time volunteer. She had an opportunity fall into her lap here when a documentary producer came through on a tourist trip and took up her cause at the clinic. She helped create a website, with Peace Corps’ permission (which was not easy to get), and now there is a trust that funds projects at the clinic and social work office in town.

Nata is a village of about 5,000 and it is poor. There are 400 orphans here. People are under-nourished. It is an isolated village, even though it is directly off a main road, there isn’t much around. However, it is a stopping place for tourists on the way to Victoria Falls in Zambia. Partly because of that and partly because of an open-minded, accepting kgosi (chief), it is extremely progressive in its HIV/AIDS response. This little clinic treats hundreds of people from the surrounding area. It recently became a registered ARV clinic (to their dismay, because now their patient load is overwhelming . . . there are 70 just in the village currently on the ARV medication). A patient becomes eligible for ARV’s when their CD4 count (a type of white blood cell) is below 200. In the U.S., it is under 300.

Mel has dabbled in several different projects. She helped register 800 orphans in the surrounding area. She trained staff at the clinic to use the three computers they had and couldn’t use. She registered a community support group and an HIV/AIDS education youth group who do dances and skits at all sorts of events as community-based organizations so they could get funding from the government. When she first came, she walked around the community and passed out condoms and asked people if they were tested. She’s pretty amazing . . .

Nata is beautiful. It doesn’t get as cold during the winter nights here . . . not lower than 40’s. There is a river (the Nata River) that goes through the town. Just north on the river is a bird sanctuary (I’m going to see those birds tomorrow, Grandpa). Chobe National Park is only 30K away, with elephants and lions and everything. There’s a lodge nearby with a pool that Mel can use. The stars and moon which was full the night before last are amazing.

There are lots of opportunities to generate income for the town from tourists. Mel is arranging a walk through town along the river, watching a woman make local fried bread, see basket-making, and watch the construction of a traditional home. She took us on the walk this morning. I think it will be very popular. I asked about seeing traditional dances. She says they’re working on it.

This is a breath of fresh air from pre-service training. Even though I have a great host family (whom I will describe in a moment), the training is exhausting. There are few hours of daylight to be active, study the language, or run errands. Most of our time is spent sitting in a classroom, learning about what may or may not happen at our site after we may or may not get sworn in as volunteers. There have been some great speakers from different government AIDS offices, but apparently (according to Mel) those offices tend to be corrupt and funding gets diverted to the employees of the offices rather than the orphans or sick for whom the money was intended. (Which is why Mel’s trust is so brilliant . . . no middle men besides a Peace Corps volunteer who literally can’t take any of the money or she’d get sent back home).

My host family’s last name is Moklogelwa. I don’t know the names of my grandmother and grandfather. They are mme (grandmother) and grrandfatha. I have a 20 year old host sister named Boi (pronounced Bouey) and a 3 year old brother named Gnose (“Nos”). He is precious. He calls me Auntie and loves it when I play the guitar. It is very typical to hit children (even so young) and so the children are extremely receptive to affection, unlike children in the U.S. (I think). If he is crying (maybe because grandma just whacked him for being “naughty”), and I pick him up and hug him, he is instantly happy. It has an immediate, visible affect that is rather heart-breaking.

The family is 7-day Adventist. They are not as strict as some Adventists (who are vegans) but they are certainly serious about their faith. We sing a hymn and pray every night before bed. They go to church on Saturday and strongly believe in keeping the Sabbath (Saturday). Church was three hours. #1 hymn-singing and a speaker/presentation about disabled people in Moshupa (the village I am in) #2 more or less adult Sunday school, discussing “How we know the bible is reliable” #3 a “normal” church service with hymns, the doxology, prayers, and a sermon

I have a room to myself in a fairly nice house and I feel completely safe and comfortable. I can cook my own food if I choose, but there is usually something being prepared when I get home from training and they always offer me some. I have tried goat intestine for the first and last time. I’ve eaten more kinds of porridge than I can remember, but I do know that the sorghum was my favorite and the sour porridge (they put cream of tartar in cornmeal and let it sit around the house and sour) is awful. I haven’t been given the traditional sour milk, but other volunteers say it’s not so bad. Few vegetables grow in Botswana — butternut squash (there is tons of it), potatoes, carrots, and onions. Everything else is imported. I crave fresh fruits and vegetables! I am so jealous of those who will soon be enjoying summer produce from the Farmer’s Market (or the Hart family garden). We have had salad for two meals at Mel’s house and I am in heaven.

In Botswana, one of the most noticeable cultural norms is the importance of greeting people. Everyone says “dumela, mma (to a woman) and dumela, rra (to a man)” before starting any kind of conversation. If you ask for directions (or anything) without greeting first, you will be ignored. So, the Setswana that I know mostly has to do with saying “hello, how are you, I’m fine, how are you” and I know it very well. There is a slow pace to life. People walk incredibly slowly through the village, partly to allow for all the greeting that has to happen. So far, I haven’t felt impatient about it (because I have absolutely no agenda before or after training) but I’m sure at some point I will want to light a fire under everyone’s feet.

Some other “cultural observations”: Saying thank you is rarely done (their greeting is like our saying thank you . . . I had no idea it was so important to us to say please and thank you until I found it lacking). People cut in lines if they feel they are in more of a hurry than the others. Gender roles are strictly defined, although younger generations are starting to “modernize” (men will help with housework and women will help generate income), especially in the cities.

People are friendly and gentle and they love Americans, although sometimes that comes from the perception that white people (especially Americans) are rich and therefore a source of handouts.

Okay, that’s enough generalizing. I have only been here for 12 days or so. Please take what I write with a grain of salt until you see Botswana for yourselves. ;)

I think of you fondly and often.

Love, Leah (Setswana name, Thapelo, meaning prayer)