Stranger in a Strange Land

STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND...
             One year in country, highs and lows

High - the kids
Kanye, where it alllll started!

GLOW

 

    Moshupa 

Kanye Kids

 

Jacquline

Moshupa Monday Kids


 

Black Rhino at the Khama Reserve

High - The animals, domestic and wild (chickens are really good mothers and sometimes look like they are wearing toupees, donkeys' bray sounding like 'demented children', baboons scare the shit outta me, praying mantis' are badasses!)

 

His 5th leg was....impressive

 

Really dumb bird, the Hammerkop

 

 

Baboons are crazier than loons

 

Monkeys at the Met

 

 

 

Low - MoE & Company, yeah, Mabel, I'm talking about you

 

Kereng at Youth Forum

 

Low - The freaking weather!!
 

 

High - My fellow PCVs, here and elsewhere
 

With Mary in SA

 

Paco, would do him in a New York minute

  

Celia and me at Swearing In

The Magnificent 7 in Moremi

 

D & Me in Pretoria

Rose, Shannon, Moi and Celia

Jack

 

 

 

High - travelin to Durban, Maun, Khama Rhino Reserve, Pretoria

Curt, and kids 

In the shark tank with Adam

High - Turning Sexty

 

Low - Turning Sexty without my family

Shanta and Dom

 

 

Low - Fucking mosquitos!
 

 

Major lows - Ma Chibana's death, The Munsons and VA leaving

VA doing the world map

 

High & Low - 16 years of celibacy (and counting)

Still have yet to put a condom on anything!

 

Low - Modisa and corporal punishment

 

High - home stay

Me, Dana, Refie, Njale and Celia

High - Njale and daughter

 

High & Low - PST
 



Corey and Me, Halloween, 2011

 

High - Taxi, Chutney, Marmalade, Salsa & Caviar

The dog and feral cats on my compound, This is Chutney

 

 

High - Food Lovers & Woolworths Food stores

 

High - 1 yr Anniversary at Mogolodi

Nate and Rose

 

High - 50th Anniversary Party!!

Dancing with Dana, Cassie, Adam, Sheb and Clayton

 

 

High - doing some of the best writing of my life

LOW Low low - having to be reassigned and leaving my sweet little house
 

  

 

 

Me at MSS 

 

 

With Lady Gugu

Ma Chibana



On her front porch, Granny with the neighborhood kids and me, 2011

I fully expected this post to be about my recent phenomenal trip to the Khama Rhino Sanctuary. I even had a name, title all picked out - Karla Karma in Khama - but something happened, something so....so devastating, that well, it superseded everything. My host mom, the incomparable Nonhlanhla Winifred Chibana, passed away.

On my second day in Botswana, I met this incredible woman, who barely came up to my shoulder. She embraced me, took me into her home for two months and became my family. Although I am a very vocal and non-apologetic atheist and declined her first (and only) invitation to attend church, I did so my last Sunday in her home. That is a testament to how much I had come to love, respect and admire my Ma Chibana. She went to a Pentecostal Church, called Holy Rollers in my youth, and it was equal parts nostalgic, fascinating and excruciating. She was so considerate and sensitive that when they started laying on of hands, moving through the congregation, she saw my panic and gave me the keys to her car and told me to wait there. I almost ran out of the church.

She often had the neighboring children in, feeding them, helping with their homework and being a sanctuary. She took in relatives and treated her housekeeper, Popi, like family. She volunteered, took neglectful parents to task and had no problem telling the police and others what they should be doing. I loved her.

About two weeks before her passing, I had a sadly short visit with her. She had been in the hospital in SA, trying to get to the root of her symptoms. They sent her home without a diagnosis and a cat scan scheduled for November. While there, Ma Chibana's car was stolen from the hospital's parking lot! She was still feeling poorly and now, pretty much stuck at home. She celebrated her 74th birthday and sadden me by saying my per functionary SMS was the only recognition of the day she got.

On Friday, the day before she died, I sent her, and others, a text about what a great time I was having at the Rhino Reserve. She texted me back:

Ma Chibana: Are you on holiday
Me: Yes. At Rhino Reserve. How r u?
Ma: Im much better thanx except for fatigue popi has severe headache
Me: How long has she (Popi) been ill?
Ma: Since this a.m. but she only told me this evening
Me: O so sorry. U 2 r having such a hard time. Is n e one helping u?
Ma: All will be well
Me: (smiley face)

She passed in her sleep that night.


 

Ma Chibana (in the middle) tt my swearing in

Swearing in in the outfit she insisted on having made for me. I wore it yesterday to her funeral.

Granny with Popi and Abbey
 

Although I have adamantly said I will not attend a funeral here in Botswana (I haven't attended one in the States in more than a decade), I went to Ma Chibana's yesterday. I passed on the church service that started at 6 a.m. (and missed the slide show that included a pic of me with her), I made it to the gathering, viewing at her home, my former home, in Kanye. I did it because she would have wanted me to. It would have been a source of pride for her to have me attend, wearing the outfit she had made for me, following all the correct protocol. She deserved that and so much more. I will miss you, Granny, my

 

Ma Chibana

 





Ma Chibana and Me
 

Batshit Crazy

A year, I, we have been here a year. Most of us, Bots 11, came together last weekend to celebrate this milestone.  We commiserated,

 

drank, played, and generally just enjoyed being together.  I can hardly believe we made it this far, with only two losses, the greatly missed Munsons.  Of course, it also gave me pause to look back on this incredible year and I have come to the following conclusion - 98% of the people I've met here are BATSHIT crazy. 

 

This includes the Motswana, PCVs, ex-pats, Afrikaners, Peace Corps staff, young, old, male, female etc etc etc (in my best Yul Brynner as the King of Siam voice). Now, there are varying degrees of crazy, ranging from mildly batshit to Grand Mal Batshit crazy and fortunately most of us, myself included I hope, fall in the mild range.  But, I have most def met some in the outer limits of the Grand Mal category.  Case in point, and I am changing names to protect myself from these psychos, two of my colleagues came to blows recently. Yep, they got physical! One bitch (two guys) slapped the other who punched back. Police got involved.

 

They had not been speaking to each other for the past several weeks and behaving like spoiled, stupid children, telling me and others what they should be saying to each other, trying to play everyone against each other. Serious allegations of sexual harrassment (not each other), alcohol abuse and more, nasty letters to EVERY DAMN BODY. But, this just blew me away,  they are both still there!! WTF??

 

I know this could've happened anywhere but still.....Put it on top of painting ones finger and toe nails in the office instead of teaching, expecting the parents of current students to pay for damage done by students two years ago, having unprotected sex with others in the room....batshit crazy.

A Teachable Moment

Today, while on my way to a primary school in Moshana, a well dressed man asked if I minded chatting with him for awhile.  Of course, my response was of course not.

We talked about politics in the USA, Obama, and somehow got unto Syria and the nature of violence.  In Botswana, violence, especially domestic violence, often takes the form of what's known as 'passion killings'. At this point in the conversation, the gentleman told me he was the Kgosi, Chief, of the village I was going to and he sits in judgement of domestic violence cases (but not murder, which carries the death penalty here).  He said he felt the need to get to root of these incidences.  I asked what he thought was the root and his reply....wait for it....was....WOMEN EXPLOITING MEN.

Yes, although the victims of passion killings are predominantly women and the perpetrators almost exclusively men, it was the fault of the women that they were killed.  Women, he explained, use men to build them houses, buy them things (like food) with the promise of sex.  But, once they get what they want from them, the women leave, ignore or otherwise diss these unfortunate men who can think of no other response than murder.

You woulda been proud of me.  I didn't smack him upside the head.  I didn't call him a misogynist idiot.  I didn't throw up all over him (although I did stifle a gag). What I did do was ask questions.

Q:  So, you treat me like a whore and then are surprised when I act like one?
Q:  A grown man is not supposed to be responsible for his behavior? 
Q:  Only women are supposed to be responsible for what they do and the consequences?
Q:  If I get raped (or subject to any kind of violence), its my fault?

 

Answers - None to the first; embarrassed laughter to the second (especially when I pointed out that these men seemed to be thinking with the little head, instead of the big one); grudging agreement that all adults should be responsible for their own actions; yes to the last!  But, he did qualify it by saying under certain circumstances (maybe when its legitimate rape?) it might not be the woman's fault.

He asked me what I thought the root causes were, since I (obviously) disagreed with his assessment.  I was so eloquent! I talked about poverty, driving women to enter into these types of relationships in the first place.  I talked about uneven opportunities and gender inequality.  I talked about the lack of healthy outlets and the impact of alcohol and drug abuse rampant here.  I admitted that I have only been here for less than a year and was speaking from my very limited experience and making gross generalizations.  But, I stood by my observations.  I capped it all off with pointing out that children were also victims of passion killings, men not satisified with just murdering the woman (I forgot to mention that suicide usually followed). To this, the Kgosi replied that I had 'defeated' him on that point. 

We reached his destination and we said goodbye, thanking each other for the conversation.  I don't know if what I said made any impact.  I hope it was truly a teachable moment and has some influence, albiet small, on how he approaches future cases that come to his Kgotla.  I am optimistic.
 

To Durban and Back 2012

Adam came to spend two days prior to leaving.....

Met Court, more monkeys and birds......


Finda joined us, found Patrick, Julia and Becky with her parents......
Up at an unbelieveable hour to catch the bus.....
Hey, John, Carol, Dana and Kristen.....










Snickers, snickers, snickers.....




SOUTH AFRICA!



JoBerg....Melvilles, The Catz Pajamas & The Devil's Hot Shit Sauce.....


Sleeping on a cold ass train.....
Durban! The Indian Ocean!

Mo guts than I got!  Big Rush bungee swing.....












 An unexpected delight, an International Film Festival....





  Hotel awesome with awesomer view - sunrise

On the beach in winter.....sand art

UShaka u u shaka....