Bo-me

Last Friday school was cancelled so that all the women teachers from my school (e.g. everyone) and the schools in our area could come together to celebrate national women's month. Last year, I probably would have taken this as an opportunity to ditch the village and drink a beer in town, but I'm now at the point where there are a limited number of events like this left. So I donned my seshoeshoe, asked my host 'm'e to help me pin my blanket around me properly, and walked to the church to participate.

twinsies

There is some kind of magic that is created when bo-me (Basotho women) get together, and I say this as someone who was raised entirely by women, for whom women centered and populated spaces are nothing new. When together in a big group, they feel their power in this utterly palpable, indescribably beautiful way. Like tropical birds of a feather, they burst out in song and dance, they pray, they affirm and they explode with laughter almost as one unit. It's common for (particularly older) bo-me to kiss each other on the mouth to show affection, and the love they feel for each other is unabashed and strong.

In church that morning, I got a little tearful listening to them sing, thinking about how often I get to hear these rich liquid voices, how rare it is in the U.S. for people to sing so freely. And the whole day, in church in the morning and later in the hall at the high school where we convened to watch representatives from each school perform and eat lunch, I was just sitting in a little pool of gold. Hardly understanding a word, yet happy to just sit, observe and feel.

How lucky I am to be here, to be not just allowed but expressly invited to take part in days like this. They make it all worth it.

Khotso.