Laura in Botswana

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind. I’ve been to 2 different workshops so far, and leave for another one on Monday. Out of the entire 2 ½ weeks, I’ve been home for maybe 4 days total. I’m exhausted... and I miss Lobatse. But I’m sticking with it because in only 12 DAYS, my older sister will be visiting from the States. And I’m SO EXCITED to see her!! Only 12 more days of this craziness, and then we can run off into the sunset at Victoria Falls and live happily ever after... for a few days at least.

But there were a few fun occurrences last week at our conference we attended in Gaborone. I got my first haircut in Botswana. My hair was completely out of control, and too hot and I just needed a little pampering time. So I shelled out the cash for a REAL haircut. The lady did a great job, and gave me a really nice compliment. As she was combing and cutting and running her fingers through my hair, she asked which shampoo I was using. And I told her that it was a type sent over from the States. She said: “Well, that explains why you’re hair is in such great shape.” My hair... in GREAT SHAPE!! I love it!  It’s always a constant battle around here to keep moisturized. Both my skin & hair take a serious beating... but apparently I’m winning the battle so far!

Then I went with a friend of mine to a movie the very same afternoon. We saw “Inglorious Basterds”- which was awesome. But about halfway through the movie, there was a little excitement. The power suddenly went out, and we were left sitting in a completely pitch dark theatre. I immediately busted out laughing when everything went quiet and dark... because frankly, it was comical. Only in Botswana is that a totally normal occurrence. So we sat there for 5 full minutes, in pitch black- with only our cell phone screens to see around. And then suddenly, the power came back on, the movie started up again, and we were able to see the last half.

Now, in America, the theatre employees would be standing ready at the doors, and we would be handed vouchers AND get our money back. But here, the management would’ve thought we were crazy if we’d asked for either. We saw the whole movie-- and that was the end of it. I love those little moments where I realize exactly where I am. I don’t even ask questions anymore. I just sit back and enjoy.

As a lot of you saw on facebook last week- I had a baboon in my kitchen recently. Luckily, no injuries were sustained, and it was a very short visit- but it still definitely got my attention.

I was busy getting ready to host a braai (aka: BBQ). There were originally supposed to be about 20 people there, so the day before everyone was to show up, I was more than a little busy. Washing clothes, making salads & deviled eggs, baking desserts... it was pretty much chaos around the house. And I had stopped at some point during the afternoon to catch my breath. I was sitting on one of my not-so-comfy loveseats in the living room, and had the back screen door open to keep an eye on my drying laundry. I had been reading Harry Potter (on book 5 now!) for a few minutes, and when I looked toward the kitchen to check on my clothes, that’s when I realized I had a visitor.

He was standing right beside my fridge, just checkin’ things out. There was a LOT of food all over my counter at the time, so he was mostly looking that direction... But as soon as I saw him, our eyes met for a split second, and then I started SCREAMING. I yelled as loud as I could “GO AWAY!!!” and luckily, he seemed to understand English. He did a quick 180 and high-tailed it out the screen door.

I stood frozen in my steps for a minute, not wanting to go into the kitchen just in case one of his friends had stayed behind... But eventually I checked it out, and the food was all exactly where I’d left it and nothing seemed to be destroyed. Apparently my newest baboon friend was merely testing his limits. He didn’t mean any harm... just wanted to stop by and say hello. Maybe screaming and waving my arms at him was a little rude, but we can’t have them thinking they’re welcome, now can we?

I’ve been expecting this exactly experience ever since I moved to Lobatse. As it’s getting hotter and hotter, they’re not around the flats as much, but at certain times of the day- they’re EVERYWHERE. And apparently I’ve become too comfortable with them. I remember when I first got here, I used to literally have nightmares about them. I was convinced that every single bump in the night was one of them trying to break in and kill me in my sleep. But as time as passed, I’ve definitely adapted. A family of five will come running through my backyard as I’m baking cookies, and I’ll maybe watch for a second to see if there are any cute little ones, but otherwise- it’s back to business as usual. They’re my neighbors. We co-exist.

But apparently it’s time for my guard to go back up a bit. Because having untamed members of the animal kingdom (especially those with opposable thumbs) in my kitchen is completely unacceptable.

From 17 October 2009

This week has been full of ups & downs. (Both literally & figuratively.) As most of you are aware, it was full of “Tom Days.” The 10th should’ve been his 29th birthday, the 12th should’ve been his one-year-wedding anniversary, and the 14th was the 2-year-anniversary of his death. And really- I think I managed pretty well. Saturday last week was pretty rough. My entire family was together in Arkansas to attend a Memorial Event for the State’s fallen soldiers. And I wasn’t there. It was rough, but I decided to keep myself occupied with other things.

First off, there was washing. I had a pretty massive pile of dirty clothes & towels, and that took up most of the day on Sunday. However, we were also in the middle of several thunderstorms we got earlier in the week, so that newly cleaned laundry got to hang around my flat to dry for almost the whole week. And then Sunday afternoon, even though it was raining, Leo & I decided to go climb a hill. It had slowed to a small drizzle around 4:30, and although he tried to talk me out of it, I was set on hiking. There are several hills all around where I live. And they all seem perfect to climb, but really- it’s not safe to do on my own. And every time I’ve planned to conquer one in the past, something has come up, or my hiking buddies have dropped out… But this time, Leo took me to a new one. And it actually had a paved trail all the way up! It’s probably the tallest hill around, and the antennas for most of Lobatse’s telecommunication are on top. (It’s paved so the trucks can get up there for maintenance.) Definitely steep- but a great workout. Exactly what I needed.

On the way up, it was sprinkling pretty consistently. Just enough to keep us nice & cool… It was on the way down that things got really fun. We basically got caught in a downpour, and instead of hurrying and getting down to the car, we embraced it. There was frolicking & dancing around, and by the time we actually did get back to the car, we were SOAKED. It was awesome! As we drove to my house, I made the comment that “It’s times like this that I wish we had fast food in Lobatse.” A nice drive-thru would’ve been fantastic.

But then I got a phone call from my host brother, Enok. He had been visiting a nearby village and was driving through Lobatse. So I hurried home and met him. Of course, I was still soaking wet and slightly resembled a drowned sewer rat, but he’s long known that I’m a crazy American and there’s no point in asking questions. It was so great to visit with him. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen the whole family… and I assured him that I would get up there ASAP.

Although I’d been dreading the 14th (“The Day” as Sarah has referred to it), it actually went surprisingly well. Yes, I was tempted to stay in bed watch movies and read Harry Potter all day- but I dragged myself into the office. And I’m glad I did. We are in the process of creating our activity plan for the next fiscal year. And as tedious as it is, I was actually thankful that day because it kept me busy. I didn’t have time to sit around and mope. And then something pretty spectacular happened: my counterpart invited me to a workshop. This would typically not be cause for excitement, but in this case, it is. This particular workshop is a national one that will be held in Gaborone at the end of the month. And only 5 people from each district were specifically invited. I wasn’t originally on the list, but my counterpart fought to get me in. She basically told them that “I’d help out a lot, and was part of the team so I had to come.” It nearly brought tears to my eyes. Yes, I have to sit in a conference room for 5 days and be away from my cute little flat, but I’m needed.

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Yesterday was election day here in Botswana. It comes around every 5 years, and frankly- I’m glad it’s finally over. We’ve shared the same hallway with the elections office for over a month now, and for the last week, my officemate and I have chosen to just lock our door. Even though there’s a HUGE banner at the end of the hallway that clearly says “Elections,” literally every 5 minutes, some little old lady who spoke about 3 words of English would come in and start asking about voting & whatnot. I consider myself a relatively patient person, but c’mon! That gets old...

And apart from the office-sharing, the ways the different parties campaign here can be a little different. They fix giant loudspeakers to the tops of trucks and drive around town at all hours of the day & night (and early, early morning sometimes...) screaming accolades for their particular candidates. Thursday, the day before the actual voting, was by far the worst. They were driving around screaming out random syllables. No real words... just sounds. But because the trucks & cars were decked out with the party’s colors, it was seen as “campaigning.”

While there are technically 2 or 3 political parties here, it’s been the same one (the BDP, or Botswana Democratic Party) that has had power since their independence. And really, the fact that politics here involves wearing certain colors, honking horns, and screaming over loudspeakers is a good thing. In several other African countries, it can be much more violent. But I’m just glad it’s over for now. The peace has returned.

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Yesterday was also one of the best days I’ve had thus far in Botswana. I climbed Kgale Hill. (pr: Kah-lay) Yep- the most famous hill around... It looks over Gaborone, and was made particularly famous by the “No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency” books. It’s not too terribly tall, only 410 meters (or 1,345 ft), but it’s definitely steep and the trail is made mostly of loose rock. But my trusty hiking boots kept my ankles secure, and we made it all the way to the top!

Because of the voting, it was actually a national holiday, so all the offices were closed, but everyone was busy at the polls. So the hill was pretty quiet, except for the baboons, who literally followed us nearly all the way as we came back down.

Then, after lunch at my favorite coffee place in Gabs, Leo & I headed back to Lobatse to meet up with my friend, T. Leo is now coaching the swim team at the school where he teaches, and has his very own key to the pool. This will come in VERY handy as we’re now in the heat of summer here... And especially after hiking all morning, it felt fantastic to jump into the cold water. This will most definitely become a repeat activity.

**Lots of new pictures posted at:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=82797&id=671372544&l=b255f3a819

First off, sorry for the delay... My weekends have been a little busy, and also, the place where we typically come hang out and use internet all day had a small explosion with its electrical plugs and my computer battery lasts all of 15 minutes without a power source... Thus ends my attempt at excuses.

This is the last day of a 5-day-weekend for me. Wednesday was Botswana Independence Day. And while offices were technically supposed to be open on Friday, I chose to take a personal day, and make it a nice long vacation. Why exactly Botswana celebrates independence is a mystery to me... I've heard since day one of entering this country that "they were never a colony." They were only ever a protectorate under Britain, because frankly, they hadn’t discovered diamonds yet and Britain really saw no need to “own” this area. So they were never actually under anyone else’s rule, and the Batswana people are very adamant about that. But they still celebrate independence? Peculiar. Very peculiar. But hey- if it gets me a nice long rest and a great trip up north, I’m definitely on board.

On Wednesday, Leo, Karen & I traveled up to the Khama Rhino Sanctuary in the village of Serowe. It’s about 5 hours north of here, and I’d heard excellent things about the area. Sir Seretse Khama was the first president of Botswana, and his son, Ian Khama, is the current president. It really is an interesting family story... Seretse was one of the very high-ranking chiefs of the country back in the day, and went off to study at Oxford in England, where he met his wife, Ruth. The people of Botswana were definitely not happy when they heard he was going to marry a white English lady, but they got married anyway. He had a really hard road, but went on to lead the major political party in the country and become the first president. That’s a really abbreviated version of it, but you get the idea. Anyway- he died in 1980, and is buried in Serowe, the family’s home village. And they’ve created this amazing Rhino Sanctuary now in his honor.

We were only there for one night, but definitely had a great experience. Along with the rhinos, they have so many other animals to look at... and since it’s a somewhat small reserve, you can easily drive around and see them ALL.

I also really wanted to see Seretse’s grave while we were there, but after about an hour of driving around and asking for directions, we gave up. There’s technically a museum there in the village, and I’m guessing the gravesite is near there, but it was a holiday, and everything was closed. And really, the museum looked like it hadn’t been open for at least a few years... so we turned around and decided to head back home.

Then on Friday, after some much needed rest, we headed down to T’s village of Pitsane for a lovely lunch with her boyfriend, who’s visiting from the States. They actually killed a chicken and helped clean it and everything to prepare, but luckily, that all occurred before I got there. Ugh. After it was cooked though, we basically gorged ourselves on chicken, mashed potatoes, veggies & then a super rich chocolate tort. Mmm- definitely not on the same page as my Kilimanjaro training routine, but whatever. A girl’s gotta indulge every now & then.

For new pictures of the Serowe trip- check out: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=82797&id=671372544&l=b255f3a819

I feel that my blog has been somewhat lacking lately. And I think it’s because I’ve become very comfortable with everyday life around here. Yes, I stay busy and have projects to tell you guys about, and various everyday happenings, but they all seem so “normal” to me now that I don’t really consider them blog-worthy. For example, I ate a piece of toast off the floor on Saturday. I was in my sitting room, had done a load of wash that morning, and was hanging out at my flat to make sure no one stole anything off the line... and I was watching an episode of the Office. I had two slices of buttered toast. And while eating the first one, the second one fell butter side down on my rug. I picked it up, and without hesitating, ate it. (And enjoyed it.) It was only after I ate it that I thought, “Hmm, maybe that wasn’t a good choice...” But did I regret it? Absolutely not! This is just one example of how low my standards have become.

Let’s catch up on some of the highlights over the past few weeks...

I was making a cake earlier this week. I needed a break from reading Harry Potter (I’m on book 4!), so I decided to bake. And I realized something. Those boxed cake mixes they sell in the States are so popular because they’re totally misleading. All you have to add is an egg and maybe some oil or water or whatever... but everyone forgets just how much crap goes into the dry mix part! Cakes are most definitely not healthy... And whoever invented the “cake in a box” thing was a genius.

I found both sweet corn AND baby spinach this week at the store. (And did a little happy dance both times...) They do have maize here at certain times of the year, and while it’s completely delicious after being grilled over a fire, it’s definitely not the same as sweet corn. Mmm... and baby spinach?! I’ve been eating salads all week. It’s been heavenly. But I did realize yet another thing that every single American probably takes advantage of: those little corn skewer things that you pop into each end so you can eat it without getting all messy and/or burning your fingers. Since this is I think the second time I’ve ever had sweet corn in the country of Botswana, it’s obviously not a pressing need... but still, I now understand their importance.

The army here is called the “Botswana Defense Force”- or the BDF. And there’s actually a BDF camp right up the road from where I live. They put up a new sign a few weeks ago that reads “Botswana Defence Force.” And it makes me cringe every time I go past it...

I bought a George Foreman Grill here when I was first moving in. And it has turned out to be one of the greatest investments of my life. Yes, it’d be easier if they actually sold boneless skinless chicken breasts in Lobatse, but I’ve learned to manage. And when all that grease collects in the little plastic trough as it’s cooking, it makes me not want meat again for at least another month... but still- I love that little machine. Unfortunately, we cooked chicken this week (to accompany the sweet corn) and somehow ended up getting chicken “juice” all over the counter and floor. Let me just say: this was not my fault. The person in charge of cutting up the chicken apparently did not have adequate knives and therefore the butchering process was a little more difficult. (My knives suck.) And after scrubbing down the area, I still didn’t think it was clean enough, so I ended up mopping the entire kitchen. Now my floor is all pretty and it’s ended up being one of the highlights of my week.

I saw a girl fall out of the back of a truck last weekend. While packing people into the backs of trucks is completely normal around here, on Sunday afternoons it gets a little out of control. Everyone piles in to go off to church... I think the most I’ve seen is 13 people at once. And these are not big trucks. In fact, I can’t think of anything in the States right now that even compares in size. Since all the trucks there now are UNNECESSARILY HUGE. (But I’ll save that rant for later...) My host family used to do it all the time, and age or disability didn’t matter. My host mother can barely walk, but somehow she’d get up into the back and have her 6-month-old grandson on her lap the whole way. Anyway- K & I were in Gabs and were riding in a khombi (mini-bus taxi type thing). We were about to enter a traffic circle, and this truck was just coming out of the circle, with a full load of passengers in back. And all of a sudden, a girl came flying out of the back and hit the pavement! Pretty hard, I might add. The khombi almost hit her, but she quickly got out of the way and was able to stand up on her own and run back over to her truck (which had stopped a little farther up). She seemed fine... but it was still pretty crazy.

After detoxing awhile back, I’ve been really good about avoiding popcorn. I had a bit of a problem there for awhile... but really have it under control now. But on Monday, I had a serious craving and decided to walk to the shop to buy a bag. (I think I can control myself now...) Unfortunately, when I got there I found they had only 4 bags on the shelf- each of which had little bugs crawling throughout the kernels. And again, I found myself thinking: “Well, they’re just little bugs. I could easily pick them out or maybe if they were cooked along with the popcorn, they wouldn’t be dangerous?” Fortunately, reason prevailed on this one, and I left with no popcorn. Those bugs had big teeth and lots of legs and were crawling a little too excitedly... even for me.

I’ve been wearing more skirts lately because it’s basically springtime around here. It’s still cool in the mornings & evenings, but it feels pretty fantastic during the days. And people have been noticing my change in wardrobe... At the office, they say I now look like a woman. (Apparently I look like a man when I wear pants.) And just a few days ago, I got home to my hoard of children waiting on the front porch. And one of them piped up: “Warona- your dress is very nice! And your head is very nice!” I asked around and most people agree I have a nice head. Good to know.

And last, but most definitely not least, I’d like to give a shout-out to my laptop. I was going to use the timeless catch-phrase “It takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’”- but that seems lame, and also inaccurate. This laptop takes almost daily beatings, old age, viruses, heat & dust, and keeps on tickin’! (It is now a world traveler and is almost 5 years old.) Yes, it refuses to turn on about 10% of the time, in which case I have to remove the battery for approximately 2 days, then snap it back in and keep my fingers crossed... and the DVD drive no longer works... and the fan sometimes sounds like a boat engine... but whatever. I give it pep-talks every now and then, and also remind it that retirement is coming. That seems to work. Good job little buddy.

I was invited to a meeting on Tuesday night. It was actually our District Officer (head of my entire office) who invited both Leo & I and he made it sound pretty darn interesting. “Are you interested in traveling? Then come to this thing tonight... it’ll change your life, I promise.” Well ok then. I was sold and gladly accepted the invitation.

It all started at 6pm at the hotel here in town. And there was a pretty great turnout! All very high ranking officials from the community, business people, teachers and tons of other people I had seen around. So the lady up front started her presentation, and within approximately 45 seconds, I knew it would be a long night. We were sitting through a slide show all about... a pyramid scheme. In BOTSWANA. I couldn’t believe it! This one in particular dealt with great travel deals and reduced ticket prices, etc. But of course, in order for you to benefit from any of it, you have to pay them $360 up front, an additional $60 monthly fee, and then “build your team” to get the real money flowing. Meaning: recruit other people to expand the base of the pyramid and make the people on top rich. My parents taught me very well that if it sounds too good to be true, than it most likely is. And that’s exactly how this was. We sat there for over 2 hours listening to all the benefits and how fantastic they were and blah blah blah. And by the end of it I was starving. Luckily, I had the excuse of being a PCV to get out of any commitment. See, while I’m under the Peace Corps umbrella, I’m not allowed to start up any other business ventures or make other money in Botswana. So I didn’t have to hurt any feelings and bowed out gracefully. 

The scary part was how many people were really interested! That company got a lot of new “partners” that night...

Last week, I got to tour the Blood Services Center in Gaborone. We’ve started up a new club called Pledge 25 here. And I know I’ve mentioned it before... but basically we get young people (aged 16-29) to commit to donating at least 25 units of clean blood in their lifetime. It’s all about staying HIV negative and overall healthy. So we took them all to the center to see the inner-workings of the place... It was all pretty much like a donation center in the States, but with one major difference: the needles. I don’t know what size they use (no one seemed to know the exact gauge) but it was HUGE. I always joked about the blood needles being like drinking straws back home... but next to these, I’d take an American one any day!

It really was a great time. The kids had fun quizzing me in Setswana, and asking questions about every aspect of my life just to see how far they could push it, and then we all got to eat a delicious lunch at Nando’s. Nando’s is a fast food chain here. It specializes in chicken and braai (BBQ) in general, and kinda reminds me of Chili’s a tiny bit. (but without the awesome cheese dip & enormous drinks...) Of course, our lunch wasn’t served until 4pm because our driver left us stranded for 2+ hours on the side of the road in downtown Gabs. It was hot, and we were cranky & thirsty... but it did make for some fun times with the group members. I really hope this club succeeds. The kids that are members are all out-of-school youth... meaning they’re either waiting to leave for university or they’re looking for jobs... and that’s always a little tricky because if and when they do get jobs (which is great!) they’ll most likely have to move. I guess we’ll deal with that when it comes...

I went to a funeral last Saturday. It was actually my first time to attend one in Botswana, and I had every intention of writing all about it on Sunday... But instead, I got sucked into the realm of backpacks and spent all 3 of my internet hours researching those instead of posting a blog. There will be more on the backpacks later, but for now: the funeral.

I received a phone call on that Thursday. I had been out at one of the NGO’s all day and hadn’t been around the office much. But my very good friend who works with the housing department called to tell me that another coworker “was late.” Late for what? I asked. And then it hit me- He was dead. (Hello, my name is Laura and I’ll be playing the part of the dense American.) He was one of our messengers for the office. I interacted with him on a daily basis, but really hadn’t known him all that well. But it was extremely sudden, and definitely shocking. This guy was young- in his thirties! He seemed completely healthy... And that always seems to be how it happens around here. Thanks to advances in medicine, and the great economy in Botswana that can provide the necessary drugs to patients, we don’t see nearly as many deaths from AIDS as in years past. But they still definitely happen. And it always seems to be the youngest, healthiest of people... Of course, no one ever actually says the big, ugly A-word. I’ve heard everything from “They had an asthma attack” to “It was flu,” but never, ever is a death blamed on AIDS. It really is the most bizarre and frustrating thing. How in the world are we supposed to change anything if no one will admit there’s a problem?

Funerals here are typically held in the early morning. This particular one started at 5am. My counterpart (the DAC), our M&E officer and I all arrived together at around 6am. I had asked several people the day before what exactly I should wear, and they all told me that no trousers were allowed for women. And while some people choose to wear black, any color would be fine. (I especially liked that last part, because I really hate wearing black to funerals...) I had wanted to wear my traditional skirt, but the mornings here are still really cold, and it wouldn’t have been warm enough. So I opted for one of my ankle length ones with a sweater. As we pulled into the tiny village where the family stayed, I immediately realized I had a problem. Both me & my M&E officer were not wearing head wraps. I had not been told to wear one, but every other single woman had their head covered! Oops... They forgave me because I was a silly white girl (and had been given misinformation), but I still felt pretty stupid.

First up was the viewing of the body. We all walked single-file into the small cement house. In the room nearest the front was the open casket with my former co-worker inside. And I’ll spare you all the graphic details- but the process of preserving the body is definitely less fine-tuned here than in the States. It was not a fun experience.

We then sat back down outside and waited for the service to begin. One thing that I did find interesting was that the men and women were kept completely separate from each other. Women sat under the large tent directly in front of the home, while the men stood along the perimeter. There was no mixing. And there were also no children there. The service was a little long, but very simple. Several people got up to speak. One was a friend of the family’s who announced the last words of the deceased to the crowd. He had had a very serious girlfriend for many years, but had apparently never married her. And his last words were directed at his mother. He wanted her to accept the girlfriend as her daughter-in-law and welcome her into the family. There was also a point at which one of the preachers blamed the death on Swine Flu. Yes- Swine flu. It was completely in Setswana, so a friend of mine was helping with the translating... and all of a sudden I heard the man up front say “H1N1.” I turned and asked (as discreetly as possible)- “Did he just say this guy died of Swine Flu??” Her response: “Yes. And he’s also saying may he rest in peace.” I seriously felt like screaming... Of all the reasons I’ve ever heard, Swine Flu was definitely a new one. I don’t think there are even any cases confirmed in all of Botswana. I could go on & on about this, but I won’t. Just know that I was extremely frustrated and fought the urge to stand up right then and there and educate the masses. Instead I sat there quietly, watching the chickens fighting under the casket (which had been moved outside) and listening to the young goats play-fighting behind us.

After the service, everyone piled into cars, trucks & khombis (mini-buses) and headed for the cemetery. A few more words were said, and then the casket was lowered into the ground. Then all the men in attendance took turns shoveling dirt into the hole. Dust was flying everywhere, and we kept retreating further and further away to steer clear of it, but within minutes it was filled and we were all piling back into cars to head back to the house.

Funerals and weddings here require one main thing- FOOD. If you’re not fed at a big event like that... it’s a scandal. So that’s what was last on the schedule- THE FOOD. The men & women were still separate from each other, and the men ate first. This is a cultural thing here, and it’s just how it is. Although it makes me cringe every single time, I’ve come to the realization that it’s just life. We’re trying hard to empower women and help them to stand up for themselves, but when it comes to mealtime, the men eat first. There’s no changing that. C’est la vie.

I’m really glad I went. It was definitely a new experience for me... and while there were certain points where I was screaming on the inside, it was a great time overall.

The backpacks will wait until another time. I’m tired of typing.

I got home on Thursday from the workshop. Upon inspection of my kitchen, I realized that the half loaf of bread I’d left on my counter was missing. It was found on the floor next to my stove, with a big hole gnawed in the bag and a large chunk of the bread eaten. And using my detective skills- I decided that the rat was back.

I cleaned up the bread & all the crumbs, and went to the sitting room to read. After a few minutes, I looked up to see the rat scurrying across my sitting room and down the hallway toward my bedroom! So I did what any normal person would do- screamed “Hey! Stop! You there!! STOOOOPPPP!” and then promptly slammed the door between the sitting room and hallway to trap the creature on the other side. I immediately called T to scream into the receiver “The rat is in my house again!!! Ew Ew EWWWW!!!” and then called Leo. He’s definitely in charge of rodent control. I can handle frogs, snakes, even small mice I could probably deal with- but rats?? NO.

So he came over to find me pacing in the sitting room, with every light in the house on. I armed myself with a pocket-sized umbrella and we began to go from room to room searching. After close examination of the bathroom, bedroom & guestroom- we decided the rat must’ve escaped somehow. But where was the hole?? That was the question. So, content that the rat was gone or at least dormant for the night, I decided to drink wine and watch ‘Smokin’ Aces’ until my blood pressure went back to normal.

All day Friday was spent cleaning my ENTIRE flat. I’m serious- it is completely spotless! I decided that the best way to find the hole was to go systemically through every single room and clean out all the clutter. And in the process, I also swept, mopped, dusted & scrubbed everything. I had been saving several of my care package boxes for future craft projects, but decided they posed too much of a risk piled up in the closet like they were. They’ve now all gone out to the trash pile. (Which the children promptly went through and now the boxes are scattered all over the parking lot...) And I also organized and hung up all of my backpacks. They’ve always been heaped in the corner of a closet, but I realized that the rat could gnaw on them if they continued on like that. So they now each have their own hanger and are all organized and off the ground.

After all the cleaning, organizing & beautifying- I went to bed on Friday night feeling pretty darn good about myself. But then I awoke on Saturday morning to find another half-eaten loaf of bread on my counter. But this time it wasn’t just any bread- it was GOOD bread. 15 pula bread!! (That’s about half my daily living allowance!) At first I had every intention of catching the rat and setting it free in the great outdoors to live out its days in peace. But now I just want it dead. Eating my fancy, delicious bread that I couldn’t even afford?? That’s punishable by death.

I’m convinced the rat has a way in & out of my house, and that it doesn’t actually live here. But either way- we’ve called in the big guns: Simon. Simon is T’s cat and he’s come to stay with me for a few days to hunt. So far, there has been no sign of the rat since Simon’s been around, but I have faith in my little feline friend. I keep giving him pep talks to boost his confidence and if the need arises, I’d love to draw up a game plan on one of those big green chalk boards.

But in the meantime, we’re just hanging out... waiting for the rat to make a mistake... I’m definitely not used to having a cat in the house anymore. I’ve forgotten how annoying they can be at night- with their constant nocturnal activities. And how they get into EVERYTHING. I’ve had to hide all small items- such as chapstick, earrings & pens. But so far, it’s been fun. We’re trying to act like it’s all good and normal, and as soon as the rat gets a little too comfortable and decides to raid my kitchen again- that’s when we make our move. Vengeance will be mine!

I’ve been in Gabs for the past few days to attend a workshop. And while workshops are usually very boring and tedious and I tend to doodle and draw flowers on my notepad for 8 hours straight- that’s definitely NOT how this one has been. Remember that grant I mentioned several weeks ago that I was trying to acquire for one of my local NGO’s? That’s what I’m here for. It’s potentially a nice chunk of money for a very deserving group of orphans... and I’m so excited to be helping with it!

This particular program is designed to partner a PCV with an NGO. And this workshop was set up to help walk us through the grant application process. I’ve been so grateful for the baby-stepping, as I’ve never done one before, and also because it can be super confusing. Funds from the US Government that go toward AIDS relief come with a lot of strings attached. They can only be used for very particular types of programs, and trying to maximize their potential to our benefit can be completely overwhelming. But luckily, the NGO director I’m working with is very experienced and also really fun to be around. So far, we’ve made a great team. He’s also a very willing sport when all of us PCV’s have gotten together (there’s 8 of us at this particular event) and started our usual shenanigans. It’s been fun.

For example, we managed to blow up an entire wall of circuitry in our conference room. My computer has an American plug, and in order to get it into the crazy South African electrical socket, two adapters are necessary. The connection wasn’t very good to begin with, but since my computer battery lasts all of 20 minutes on its own, the connection was essential. And everything was fine until one of the ladies walked a little too close to the wall, and made the adapters bend in a way they didn’t like... One piece of my “English adapter” broke off and became lodged in the “South African adapter.” And apparently this somehow short-circuited the socket, threw out some sparks and loud popping noises, and then half the lights in the room went out- never to return. Oops. And as much as it sucks that we broke the room, it sucks even more that my adapter got broken.  That particular one has traveled with both my Mother & my brother... and frankly, it was a good adapter! And yes, it still technically works. But it’s all sad & gimpy now...

But other than the electrical incident, it’s been pretty fantastic. The workshop didn’t provide dinner for us, but did provide a per diem while we were here to buy dinner elsewhere. And that has been GREAT. We’ve eaten Indian food, Thai food, delicious sandwiches, and all the wine we could want. Mmm.  Of course, we did manage to break a corkscrew in the process of opening that wine... but whatever. Clearly we can’t be trusted to take care of anything.

I got an email a few days ago. Apparently I’ve been elected to the Voluntary Advisory Committee (VAC) for the Botswana PCV’s- which is awesome! We act as a link between the PCV’s and PC staff. Any new ideas or comments or suggestions or grievances or whatever- we then take these to the staff to discuss every quarter. Not only am I excited to do some good work, I also really like being elected for things! It makes me feel very special.

This week I also got a new cell phone! Well, kinda new... It’s actually about 3 years old (and still has the Cingular logo all over it), but it’s new to me! I brought it over with me when I first got here, and found out the hard way that it was locked and couldn’t be used with a foreign sim card. But we found a place in Gabs that unlocks them... and since my sad little Nokia 1200 (that’s served me well for the past 16 months) was dying a slow and agonizing death- I went ahead and paid the 150 pula ($20) to get this bad boy unlocked. And what a good decision it was! Not only do I have a fancy “new” phone with a color screen and buttons that actually work! But I also got all my old ring tones & games back! I get to listen to Josh Groban when I get a phone call, and get to entertain myself with Tetris while bored in meetings... Why didn’t I do this sooner?!

PS- I’ve started reading the Harry Potter books. I’m on the first one, and only about 100 pages in so far... but I’m already pretty addicted. So cute! However, I also saw the newest Harry Potter (HP6) this week and totally hated it! Why couldn’t they stay young and sweet and doing things like turning pencils into toads??

There was some excitement in my kitchen this morning. And not the good kind of excitment.

Leo & I were in my sitting room enjoying an episode of 'How I Met Your Mother' & waiting for J to arrive so we could head into town. And out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a flash of fur coming from my kitchen. Unable to use any kind of known grammar, I chose to simply run at the terrified creature while waving my arms and screaming random syllables. It was indeed, a rat. But the funny part was: Leo hadn't even seen it! All he'd seen was me jumping off the couch and running into the kitchen- all the while screaming like a crazy person.

Side note: Most girls would have probably jumped up on the couch or run away from the rat. I did not. I confronted it. Totally fearless. Please remember that as I continue...

So we both ran to the kitchen and started moving appliances around to try and find the beast. It wasn't behind the fridge. And when we pulled the stove away from the wall, we spotted his escape route. There's apparently a tunnel behind some of my cabinets. I'd never noticed it before- but that's where he was hiding. So we figured he had some secret passageway into the wall back there, and would find his way outside, and we went back to our show.

After sitting there for maybe 5 minutes, the rat appeared again! And this time, Leo saw what I had seen earlier: this thing was HUGE. I really don't think rats are all that disgusting. I've learned to live quite peacefully with them on every vacation I've taken around here... as they're always sneaking into our huts or tents and eating any food within reach... but to have one in MY KITCHEN?? Not cool.

So this time, we decided we needed a strategy. This rat was smart, and we needed to be prepared. So we shut the door between the kitchen and the sitting room. And since apparently there was no escape hatch from behind the cabinets, we decided that if we stuck a broom handle back there, the rat would come back out. And it actually worked!! Leo was in charge of the broom, and I was in charge of holding the door open. (It's spring loaded, so my job was especially important.)

Our first attempt was completely unsuccessful. ...and embarassing on more than one level for me.

After poking it with the broom handle, the rat came shooting out from behind the cabinets. It started to run for the sitting room, but because the door was closed, it got really crazy and tried running back for the hole. Leo saw this as an opportunity to kick the rat to try to get it back toward me, and in doing so, his shoe flew off and started coming toward my head. And I, assuming the rat was also flying toward me, let go of the door, started sceaming the most girly scream of MY LIFE, and ran across my back yard to an area of safety. In the confusion, Leo (with his one shoe) stopped guarding the hole for a split second, and the rat ran back inside.

So our second attempt...

We decided that we needed more of a barricade for the hole in the cabinet. So this time, as soon as the rat ran out (after poking it with the broom), I grabbed an empty cardboard box and secured it in place with my camping chair. As I turned back around from finishing the barricade, I realized that Leo was no longer swatting at the rat on the floor, but reaching high into the air with the broom. THE RAT WAS CLIMBING THE DOOR! This was especially impressive because the door is painted with a glossy paint and doesn't exactly provide friction for easy climbing... With one good swat, Leo managed to get him off the door, and after some stomping and screaming from my side of the kitchen, the rat eventually ran out. (We had forced the door to stay open with another chair... I was removed from that post after previous incidents.)

Success at last!

I'm sorry there are no pictures from this encounter, but trust me- there was no time. That was one clever rat, and clearly we couldn't spare any energy on trying to snap its picture.

I have had all kinds of living things in my house. Frogs, snakes, spiders, cockroaches & every other type of bug you can imagine. But rats?! That simply will not do. Hopefully he went back and told all his friends that my flat is off limits.

The end.

In totally unrelated news, I have posted new pictures. But I've posted them to facebook instead of photobucket. Their uploading seems to go much faster, and therefore is much easier for me. But you don't have to be a member to see them! So just go to the link below and you're all set!

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=82797&id=671372544&l=b255f3a819