Out and about in Kopong

This was the last day of school for Kopong Junior Secondary students. Form 3's who pass their final exams will now move on to Senior Secondary school, which for them will be a boarding school in Good Hope, in the south of the country. Those who do not pass will most likely join the list of unemployed young men and women in this country, one of the problems the government is hoping we will help them address.

When we return at the end of January, there will be a new class of Form 1's, and today the Head of School informed us it is a large incoming class--45 students to a class. ouch. This has not been the best time to arrive. The teachers are at the end of the longest term in the history of Botswana education, as they have had to make up time for the days that were lost last term during a bitter teacher's strike. They are tired, finishing their grades, and ready for semester break. Not the best time for an eager, ready-to-work peace corps volunteer to arrive in their midst. I have spent a lot of time observing and listening and wondering where I might fit in. Sometimes I don't feel I will fit in. But then, someone like Rra M. will ask if I would be willing to invigilate an exam, which I did, and which  led  to me talking to the students about my work in America which led to two young girls showing up in my office the next day to ask if I would help them with their writing. One thing usually leads to another, and just when I am thinking I am going nowhere, I don't know what I'm doing, etc., the librarian will speak to me and ask if I can help her sort through the 500 books that were donated from world wide libraries. And then yes, I have work and something to do while the school is closed for two months.

Outside of school my job for the next two months is to 'integrate into the community.' Again, not the best time, as many families return to their home villages for the holidays or are gathered together. Sometimes it feels like me and the dogs--Felix and Spike--are the only ones out and about. This is a respectful, friendly country, and people always greet each other. On Thanksgiving day, when I was feeling lonely and a bit lost, I put up my umbrella, stepped out the gate with Felix and Spike and said "Dumela Mma" to a pretty young woman at the bus stop (some tires buried in the sand under a shady tree). Her name was Precious and she walked with me and told me she had known the previous peace corps volunteer and wanted me to let her know that Precious 'is in school.' I now know what a victory that is, and I have already emailed the good news.

In the evening, when I want to see the sunset, and I need a bit of  walk before bed, I wander about the dirt paths around my home (not too far, as I am prone to getting lost here). Sometimes I hear a child call out "hello English lady" or sometimes a bold one will walk up to me and say 'give me madi.' The assumption is that all white people are wealthy and so we are often approached and asked for madi--the word for money AND for blood (interesting homonym). I tell them I have no money. They clearly don't believe me. But they can see I have a camera in my hand. "take our photo' they say, and burst into giggles when I show them the result. I come home and burst into tears at the pride and strength in their madi.

Today I decided to make the trek to Gaborone, the capital. I stood by the buried tires under the shady tree with felix and spike sleeping beside me and while I waited a teacher from the school stopped and talked with me. No bus arrived, but a combi (think small mini van with folding seats to hold 9 people in the 3 three rows and 2 people beside the driver) came along and I folded myself in and asked if I could get to Gabs on the combi. A woman told me she was going to Gabs and would show me. Thank the good Lord she did, as it required getting off on the highway and getting into another combi which did not seem to me to have any indication on it that it was going to the bus rank. But we got there. By the grace of good Batswanans.

Speaking of God, he is very present in the schools  and all areas of life here. When I was introduced to the class I was to invigilate, Rra M. said "I pray to Jesus Christ that you will give Mma Jeffries the respect she deserves." Every meeting begins and ends with a prayer. People will ask you where you go to church, as if they were asking where you shop.

Beep-beep...

a poet and a songwriter

goat traffic jam

'give me madi'

When the bus does not show up and the water goes out for days on end, life slows down to the essentials, one of which is a belief that thla go siame it will be okay. Olebogeng. thanks to God.