Maria a Fihlile (Winter has arrived)

“Today is today!”, ‘M’e Thakane, my counterpart and the fifth grade teacher, exclaimed when she arrived at school the other day.

It was pouring rain, with not a ray of sunshine to be found, the cold seeping into and introducing itself to my bones after a long separation.

I laughed appreciatively and nodded emphatically, because that was probably the best way to describe the kind of day it was. The kind of day that makes it difficult to get out of bed and even more difficult to be inspired to teach. The kind of day that makes Basotho learners (and any children who go to school in buildings without indoor heating systems and/or warm coats and boots) completely useless in the classroom. The kind of day that makes you look outside and mentally transport yourself to your warm bed, cozied up to a hot water bottle (or a lover) and a good book.

Winter has come to Lesotho, yes indeed. The biting cold that used to be relegated to the mornings and nights alone, now sometimes permeates throughout the day. Snow is clearly visible on the mountain tops beyond, and the kids have begun to show up to school wearing their blankets and sour, mournful expressions that articulate what everyone is feeling, no further explanation needed. Soup for dinner is no longer just a preference, but an absolute necessity. Thank goodness only a few days of the quarter remain.

When it’s not raining though, the sun is shining and sometimes it’s downright hot. I wore a tank top last week when I was sitting in the sun doing my laundry.

And as long as I turn on my heater for the first hour of the day and the one before I go to bed, and sleep in sweatpants, wool socks and completely submerge myself in  blankets, it’s manageable.

Today is today, wherever in the world we are.

frosted garden

woke up to snow

all of this cold beauty was melted by the afternoon. 

Khotso.