First Congregational UCC - Platteville

Friends and Family,

The task of conveying the last several weeks when I haven’t written only gets more daunting so I am finally going to try to catch up.

I spent two weeks at a Peace Corps training in Kanye, 80 km outside of Gaborone. It was a strange thing to stay at a motel with every meal served in steaming silver food warmers, an air conditioned training room, pens provided (pens are a rare commodity), and running hot water . . . ah, hot baths. There was a “football pitch” (soccer field) right behind our motel and we played after training every day. It was good to interact with the Peace Corps staff in a neutral, fun setting. Our group was unfortunately less than polite and gracious to our Motswana trainers and Peace Corps staff. Emboldened by weeks of experience as actual volunteers, I’m afraid they forget that they are dispensable. Two girls were actually written up for being disruptive during training. One of them during her presentation about her site asserted that “integration is a joke.” She is not as disastrous as her commentary makes her out to be when she is in her village, doing good work. It is a matter of semantics. Africanized British English doesn’t always come through clearly for our American English-oriented brains and “integration” was taken as “morphing into a Motswana.” Besides that slightly sour aspect of the two-week workshop, it was mostly like a delightful vacation. I roomed with Andrea and Stacy. Andrea is from San Diego. She is doing well at site which doesn’t surprise me at all. She is so sweet and sincere. Stacy is from Seattle, Washington. She is also fantastic. We have talked about hiking the Appalachian Trail together (with Cassie) after we get back.

I had a hard time soaking in all the suggestions we got during training. “You could do X and Y and Z and in your spare time, run a half marathon with your Run for Life team and re-evaluate and fix PMTCT in Kole.” (My Associate Peace Corps Director told me I don’t know anything about HIV/AIDS in Kole, which is sort of true). So, my being overwhelmed 100% of the time was only reinforced, even though it was also inspiring to hear about others’ villages and experiences.

I was nervous about coming back to Kole. For some reason it seemed like I would virtually be starting over after being gone for some time. I got back on Saturday evening and on Sunday, I went for a jog through the village. People waved and shouted and I did more stopping to greet than actual running, but the natural high that I got was just as intense as if it were purely exercise endorphins. They were happy to see me. I was relieved.

Right away on Monday, it was crunch time. The infamous VMSAC (Village Multi Sectoral AIDS Committee) training workshop was scheduled to start at 9am. I had set up chairs and swept out the community hall the day before, but besides that I felt clueless as to what preparations should be made. As usual, things fell into place and took care of themselves. The young women who I work with in the drama group prepared tea and lunch for a village crowd of about 40. Theresa, the District AIDS Coordinator, and Monica came from Charles Hill to conduct the training. The purpose of the committee is to coordinate and plan HIV/AIDS activities in the village and then report such activities to Theresa (who in turn reports to the District level at Gantsi). Then someone compiles all those activities and sends them off to PEPFAR in a report so that Botswana Gov’t can keep getting the HIV/AIDS funding it needs. Kole is one of the last villages in the country to form a committee. One of the activities during the workshop was to split into four groups and answer the following questions:
1. Is HIV/AIDS a problem in Kole? Are many people affected?
2. What are the problems with ________
a. prevention
b. care of PLWHA’s (people living with HIV/AIDS)
c. care and support of orphans and vulnerable children
d. stigma
3. What gaps are there in the services to address these issues and what new services or improvements can you suggest?

I was delighted. What a wonderful opportunity to hear what the villagers had to say about HIV/AIDS in their village. The answers were overwhelmingly, “Yes, HIV is a problem and it affects many”, “There is a lack of education in the village about prevention”, “the Home Based Care committee could be doing more to provide care to those who are infected/affected by HIV/AIDS”, “Stigma is a problem” . . . I didn’t understand everything that was said/written, but there was also consensus that the orphans were well taken care of because the S&CD (social and community development) Office dutifully distributes food baskets and school uniforms. Whether or not they are distributed to the children who need them most or used by the relatives is hard to determine.

The older brother to the Kgosi (he’s the one who suggested drinking tree sap to cure oneself of HIV) was in my group. He was sleeping through part of it and got up and left for part of it and I soon realized that he was being almost purposefully disruptive, clearing his throat loudly when people were talking, etc. At one point, he tapped my shoulder and said, “You answer these questions. And do it in English. We know nothing of these things.” Some other group members protested slightly and I pointed out that we had already answered most of them and in Setswana, but he got up and left again. Luckily that attitude (that HIV/AIDS and anything related, including talk of prevention, treatment, and care is a new-fangled thing brought in by white people who speak English) is not prevalent.

To diverge from describing the workshop and balance out my experience with Rre Ramoswaana, I was so proud to see that the youth are still meeting daily at the community hall even in my absence. They also put on a talent show to raise funds to buy their group uniforms and possibly sound equipment. They are still selling sweets, chips, choppies (gum), and oranges at the phone shop. On the way home from the workshop, Mma Maoto (one of the FWE’s Family Welfare Educators) at the clinic stopped me and said, “they want someone to speak at school tomorrow at 7am for ten minutes about HIV/AIDS, will you go?” I did, and the kids were receptive and the teachers praised my simple “Facts and Myths about HIV/AIDS” activity to high heaven. So, things are far from all bad and the young people seem to be incredibly receptive to me.

Have I told you about Run for Life? This was something else that happened in my absence . . . I’m not sure if that should be offensive or if I am doing a good job of making the community take ownership of these activities. Anyway, Run for Life is led by PCV’s all over Botswana. They form teams that run together and also do community mobilizing activities (health talks at the school, HIV awareness days, environmental health (pick up litter) day, etc) . . . there is a half-marathon race at the end of October in Gaborone. Teams can also host local races to raise awareness of Run for Life and promote healthy living in general. Team members sign a contract to live a zero-transmission lifestyle. I have a team coordinator packet with all kinds of information about training for a race, proper nutrition for runners, ideas for other team activities, and scheduled events. I had talked about the possibliity of having a team with Mokwaledi, one of the drama group members, who I knew liked to exercise (we had run together a couple of times). I left him a couple of articles from the Peace Corps newsletter about Run for Life as inspiration along with the Team Coordinator packet before I left for Kanye. He was at the workshop on Monday and said, “I found three others. We start tonight.” So, Thomas, the health auxilliary at the health post and he will most definitely be in the race in October. I and two girls, well, a small miracle would have to happen in the next five weeks, but we will maintain the team spirit anyway. Sagokatsang (20) and Olebogile (22) are my new running mates. They showed up Monday at 6pm sharp, matching t-shirts and stretch pants. I had heard from other PCV’s who have teams that running shoes are not generally favored by team members. At the end of the race last year, people were holding their shoes and running barefoot. Sure enough, one of the girls was in pink plastic flip flops and the other in slip-on flats. And no bras! Eish, I can’t imagine. I will have to get up the courage to ask them if they don’t have bras or if they prefer running without them for some masickistic (sp?) reason.

Twenty, our nurse, had to rush off to a workshop in Gaborone on Sunday morning, so I only saw her briefly before I left. I was sad to see her go so soon after I got back, but it has been sort of fun to have the responsibility of “checking” (go tlola) on her maid and baby girl, Martha and Larona (meaning ‘ours’). I go over in the morning and afternoon and have a lovely half hour or so of baby time to give Martha a break and to rejuvenate my spirits.

Where was I with the workshop? After the training, we elected a committee and the first meeting is tomorrow at 2pm. Before she left, Theresa told me, “Thapelo, try to organize an event by the end of the month. I want Kole to have an active VMSAC.” During the elections of the committee, someone said my name and Theresa informed them that I was on it whether I wanted to be or not.

They are constructing toilets at the health post. There is a pit latrine there now, but we are upgrading. There are about 12 workers who are there as soon as it’s light (shortly after 6am) and they mix cement by hand and carry it by the shovel full 30 feet or so to the spot where the building is. It is no longer remotely cool as I have been complaining about so frequently before. In fact, it is downright hot during the day. So it looks like rather miserable work. On Sunday morning when I went to visit Twenty who lives right behind the health post, one of the women workers saw me carrying groceries into the house. (When I got back I discovered the gas for my fridge was out so the groceries that I brought went to Twenty’s). She said, “mpe” (give me). I passed around a bag of apples. It was striking to me how much of a relief it was to give something tangible which we are so discouraged from doing and which I normally try to avoid at all costs. I think it was the first time I did anything remotely resembling a “hand out” since I’ve been in Kole. Later that day, I opened a letter from my mother that had a line from Cathy’s sermon (?) a book she is reading (?) . . . not sure, but anyway, it said something like: intense aversion for creating dependency or enabling laziness is all well and good. But what about compassion?

I am overwhelmed. I am happy. I think of you often and hope you keep up the amazing stream of correspondences. The last batch that I received all at once after being in Kanye made me sit on my couch and cry for about an hour, but it is absolutely necessary to know how much love and support you send my way. Thank you!!!

Love,
Leah