Kids, they run

Just some photos of Moshoeshoe Day, which is a national holiday here that is celebrated by schools competing against each other in races. Me and thabo's schools are in the same parish, so this year the fun was at his school.

crammed into 6 taxis

Keneuoe got second place in the 200 meter dash!

mah girls

Khotso

BROin out

One of the defining things about my Peace Corps experience has been the lack of certainty about the work I'm doing and how effective it really is. I'm clear that I'll probably never see the rewards of the most of what I do, and I just have to do the best I can and hope that some of the seeds I plant will grow after I leave.

But sometimes I'll have an experience like I did at the BRO camp that I co-organized last weekend, where suddenly I know exactly what I'm supposed to be doing, and I'm in the right place at the right time.

A little background:

Boys are great, and I think it's a damn shame how often they're left out of the gender equality equation, everywhere in the world. Nowadays there are a ton of programs to support and empower girls across Africa, but these things rarely have an equivalent for boys. How are they supposed to learn positive self-esteem, how to clearly communicate and have healthy relationships, to stay physically healthy, to protect themselves and their partners from HIV and to support and empower the women in their lives if no one teaches them how?

In Lesotho, boys in general are not trusted and largely blamed for problems like theft, regardless of evidence.

There is a huge drinking problem here, evidenced by the fact that there is a bar or homemade joala (alcohol) in EVERY village (but in some areas only one clinic for like five villages), around which drunk bo-ntate (men) gather.

From around the time that they start puberty, there is a very clear, invisible divide between girls and boys. This means they live together and go to school together, but in terms of their roles and social circles, they are almost entirely seperate.

Culturally, most adults will not talk about sex (the physical part of it, the emotional part, nothin). This is regardless of the fact that Lesotho, a country around the size of Maryland, is number 1 or 2 in the WORLD for HIV transmission.

So it's really no surprise that come adolescence:

most boys are aware of HIV as a thing and as problem, but not the ins and outs of how it works and what they can do to keep themselves and their partners safe.

They are very aware of alcohol but not the full ramifications of it.

They have never thought about their roles in society and in relationships as boys/soon-to-be-men (e.g. THE PATRIARCHY)

They generally think that they have the right to have sex with whoever they want, whenever they want.

...which is all really problematic.

So that's why Mackenzie, Ototo and I (DREAM TEAM SUPREME) had this camp, and it was incredible to see the boys create the safe space that they agreed on in the contract

, to see the counterparts facilitating and supporting them and to see what they all took away from the experience. It was without a doubt one of the peaks of my time here.

Morning stretch=morning fresh

Mack is a superior poster maker

Gotta dance 

snaps for condoms!

don't forget the ladiez

"So this is my bazooka..."

nothin' like a condom demo to engage the youth

Our amazing guest speakers from Jhpaigo, who came to talk about Voluntary Medical Male Circumcision. It cuts down on the rate of HIV transmission by 60%!

pretty gross

you're damn right I hugged every single boy at that graduation

The dream team! Hats off!

Khotso ya'll, and happy spring philly. The autumn equinox just happened here, and the breeze is becoming colder.

Love.

I had an experience with a person here recently that threw me for an emotional ride, and not the fun kind. I was hurt, angered and bewildered by what happened, and I spent a lot of emotional energy trying to figure out what was going on while getting very little in return.

Then, the other night, the drop of wisdom on my nightly yogi ginger tea bag said:

“Your greatest strength is love.”

And then it hit me, like it has at various times throughout this journey: The thing that I can always do, that will keep me alive and happy and well, is to keep an open heart. 

It’s easy to love the people who love us back, the ones who we feel affirmed, appreciated and respected by. It’s infinitely harder, and therefore worth it, to send love to those who hurt us or challenge us in some way. It doesn’t hurt anyone else for me to stay angry and allow those walls that we all put up sometimes to remain. It actually hurts me.

I want to be the happiest, most dynamic and alive human that I can be, and for me that means challenging those small and big moments that make me want to close up.

The only thing I can do is send love.

To my completely inadequate principal whose presence alone has the capacity to aggravate me.

To the always inquisitive children who I pass on my daily wanderings that ask the same five questions of me that every other person in Lesotho has already asked.

And yes, even to the boy who ghosted me.

The smartest thing I can do is let go. The most powerful thing I can do is send love.

And the funny thing, maybe even the best thing, about actively working on keeping an open heart, is that I’m also more aware of and in awe of the little gems that each day offers:

A shooting star in the early morning sky as I trod my way down the mountain for a morning run.

The boys on bikes, one red and one blue, who often pass me on the return leg of my runs, sitting erect and cool as cucumbers in their forest green school uniforms as the early morning breezes rush by them.

A package or letter sent by a loved one. They fill me up with home and always make my day.

One of my favorite grade 7 boys wearing a necklace of pink plastic beads in which the centerpiece is a small potato. “Is that a potato Rammako?” “Yes madam. It can be beautiful!” (I wish I’d gotten a photo).

The view(s). They never get old. 

hangin with this guy

Sending love. To everyone.  

Except Donald Trump.

Khotso.