Perplexing Botswana Observation #987

There are many things that, even after 1,075 days in Botswana, continue to confound me. For instance, in a country where sunshine prevails approximately 360 days per year, why not turn to solar power to charge the nation?

While this thought has perplexed me for some time, it is at the forefront of my mind these days because the entire country has been without electricity for nearly a week now. Yes, that's right, in darkness.

Why? you might ask. Because Botswana imports its power from South Africa.

South Africa has its own supply issues and has been clamoring to Botswana to address its own needs because they would need to cut back on delivery in favor of addressing its own needs. In other words, get your act together Botswana because we can't provide you power forever.

So, when the darkness came, it wasn't a surprise. We knew power would become more and more scarce and we expected load shedding to become commonplace. But when the power didn't come back for twelve hours and then twenty-four and then longer, we knew something else must have been the problem.

Rumors started circulating but one always sprang to the top: someone at the power plant in South Africa left the coal out in the rain so they can't use it until it dries up.

WHAT?!

Africa is a funny place. It makes me smile that something as simple as "the coal was left out" is reason for an entire nation to be without power. Indefinitely. And few are crying out about it. It is a much simpler place here in Botswana.

I laughed a little and then gathered my things and came to my boyfriend's apartment because he is one of the lucky few (very few) that has a generator. Which is how I am typing this post to you now. Oh life. TIA.

When It Rains, It Pours (Literally)

After nearly a year of intense drought, the country celebrated as the grey clouds rolled in. The skies became dark and the thunder roared in the distance. It was coming.

And come it did!

For five days the rain didn't let up. The fervent drops echoed through homes and the rumbling struck fear into adults and children alike. After all, it had been so long since such a storm had come, people were no longer use to their fierce intensity. And the rains had come with a vengeance.

Before long, rivers flooded, roads closed, and rumors of people drowning were being whispered from under warm blankets. With the ground so saturated, the reservoirs in the south began to fill. The main dam, which had been dried up and neglected, increased by 4% in only a few days. In the north, where the water crisis had subsided in recent months, bridges were being washed away.

Africa is a land of extremes. There is extreme heat, extreme drought, and extreme rains. For someone from the West, who is used to homeostasis, this reality can take some getting used to. Fortunately, Africa, and Botswana in particular, is also met by extreme gratitude and community. So, together, we celebrate the rains, even if they did come in the most extreme way.

PULA!

The Pirates Took Our Internet

Last week, the internet went out in Gaborone. I was told that the entire city was without internet because of a glitch in the main system. After word spread to the offices in the complex where I work, people started thinning out for the day. I was among those who decided to venture home.

I began my walk back towards my apartment right around the time when my mom usually logs online and we get a few moments to chat. The majority of our communication is done this way - over instant messenger and email. Without internet, however, I would not be able to log on so I shot her a text message so she wouldn't worry. A few minutes later, my phone rang. Mama Tina! How exciting to get to hear her voice and talk with her on my journey home.

The first thing she asked me when I reiterated that the internet was down across the city was "Does this have anything to do with the pirates?" I paused for a moment, trying to make sense of her question. And then it dawned on me...

During my first year in Botswana, the internet went down for an extended time. I chalked it up to life in Africa and didn't think much more of it. That is, until someone explained the outage to me:

"The pirates dropped their anchor off the coast of Kenya and it hit the undersea internet lines. We won't have internet back until those cables are repaired."

PIRATES?! You have to be kidding me?! We have to deal with pirates here?! This was almost too much for my brain to handle.

To me, pirates were only in movies or rides at Disney World. They weren't real. At least they had never played a role in my life before so I could imagine them as something of fantasy and fiction. And, honestly, it was pretty funny to think that pirates, with peg-legs and hooks (of course), were the ones who "stole my internet". Which is true. PIRATES! And a pirate ship no less! Anchor plop, bye bye internet.

They were not the thieves this time though.

But now pirates are a part of my story. And, it seems, a story that my mama has a great chuckle out of too.

The Problem With "Progress"

When we think about progress, most people envision the digital age. They see computers and databases and systems that make everything run quicker and easier. The problem with this in the developing world is that electricity is sometimes out for days or weeks, making it difficult to keep things updated electronically. Most organizations get along fine by having hand-written hard copies of all records too. While this is cumbersome and means doubling the time to do things, it is the only way. Even still, in the name of progress, people are eager to learn how to use computers and get everything online.

Gabane Community Home-Based Care, the organization I spent the majority of my service with, was no exception to this desire to enter the technological world. And, after getting eight computers donated, I helped them scale up operations using them - teaching courses and building systems specifically designed to move them in that direction. We spent tireless hours on typing and then building capacity to create and update financial systems (QuickBooks) and program databases. It was an effort that was bringing new skills to the staff at the center. They were learning so much and being able to do everything on their own. We were excited about our progress. It felt limitless.

A few days ago I received a phone call from the center coordinator. After the customary greetings and small talk, she informed me that she had bad news - "Kamogelo, I have something very sad to tell you." I braced myself. No one likes hearing these words and, within the context of the work I was engaged, it can be scary to hear them. She went on to tell me that a thief had broken into the computer lab I had put together and that all eight of our computers had been stolen. GASP! She said that they had just finished updating all of the systems and that, after so long, they had finally gotten everything organized into QuickBooks from 2010 to present. Be still my heart! I was at a loss for words. On one hand, I was impressed that they had kept up all the hard work in my absence (YAY sustainability!). On the other hand, I was devastated that nearly two years worth of work had been taken from us, just that easily. And taken from such a good-hearted charitable organization no less. How could this be happening?!

After some time in silence, I assured the coordinator that I had some records backed up on my personal hard drives and she confirmed what I already knew - they didn't have a digital backup of anything but they had been hand-writing a hard copy of some things and would have to continue in that manner since the computers were gone. Phew! In that moment, I was so grateful they had not completely discontinued their tedious hand-written work in favor of the more progressive technology. Had they, everything would have been gone. Losing the computers and all the databases and digital files created over the passed years was bad enough.

Crimes of this nature are increasingly common. It is a tragedy and it breaks my heart. But this is the reality in much of the developing world. Sure, it could happen anywhere, but the prevalence rate is much higher in some places. It is something that we, as development workers, need to be conscious of when imparting our perceived notion of "progress" on others. Yes, it may be true that this is the way forward but, at the same time, we have to keep these external factors in mind. I am relieved that we didn't completely do away with the common way of record-keeping in the village in our pursuit of progress. And, the coordinator assures me, when they eventually get computers again, they will be ready to use their new skills to go at it again... as a second means of documentation.

I Would Like My Pizza With That Delivery

The week leading up to my move to Gaborone and home leave was a stressful one. There was a high level of emotions and internal conflict. Add to that the physical drain of having to pack up my house and move everything to my boyfriend's place (for safe-keeping while I was away for five weeks) and I am sure you can imagine what I was going through. I was a bit of a mess.

But that's not to say there wasn't moments of humor in the mix. This is a short tale of one such instance...

After a particularly exhausting packing and moving day, my boyfriend and I plopped down on the couch in his living room and half passed out. And then the rumbling of our tummies startled us awake, as we realized we had neglected them most of the day. Man, were we hungry! But we were also far too tired to be bothered with going to the grocery store and the remnants in the kitchen cupboards just weren't going to suffice this time. So we made a snap decision to order pizza. Pizza is, after all, the only thing that has delivery in our part of Gaborone.

I called the pizza place to make the order. One large pizza would cost us about P88 (roughly $11). We only had a P200 note so I let them know to bring change for that. (It is important to note that you can almost never get change in Botswana. Even if you can see change in the drawer. And, if someone doesn't have exact change for you, down to the thebe, they just won't sell you the product. So alerting the pizza delivery guy to needing change is an absolute must here.)

About forty minutes later, there's a knock on the door. We were SO EXCITED about the pizza getting here that we quite literally leapt of the couch and went running for the door. We handed the delivery guy the P200 note and he gave us exact change (phew!). And then he looked at us blankly. "I forgot your pizza." "What do you mean you forgot the pizza?" "I brought you the change but forgot the pizza." The PIZZA DELIVERY GUY, the guy whose job title tells perfectly what his sole responsibility is, forgot the pizza. Only here could that happen. So off he went, back to the pizza place to pick up the pizza...

Twenty minutes later, our pizza arrived.

All you can do is laugh.

TIA.

Water and Power and Smiles, Oh My!

I don't want to jinx it so I am knocking on wood as I write this but, after weeks without, my village once again has power and water! This means that schools have re-opened, clothes are being washed and hung out to dry, and people are no longer looking to the skies and praying for rain. (Of course, I am still hoarding water and urging my friends to do the same just in case the pipes dry out again. I've been tricked into a false sense of security before.) But, at least for now, I am happy to report that all of my electronics are fully charged and my water containers (and bathtub) are filled with water. This is one of those Peace Corps victories that can't be quantified on a resume but that feels like a huge triumph when you're living it...

PULA!

Almost as if the universe realized my village needed a "pick me up" yesterday, it rained. At about 8pm, I heard the thunder roaring from somewhere in the distance and by 10pm, despite not having power, the village lit up with the lightening strikes. And then, at about 1am, the most incredible thing happened. I was awaken by the sound of people laughing and talking. I reached for my glasses and scurried half asleep to the window to see what the commotion was about. It was still pouring rain so it took a minute for my eyes to adjust but, during a lightening flash, I saw it. Dozens of people were outside, singing and laughing and talking merrily, with buckets in their hands! Just as I have done before, the community allowed nature to help them fix a problem that the government could not. And they were joyous. I picked up my bucket and I joined them for a while - giggling and stomping through puddles like a child. It was one of those Peace Corps moments that you just can't beat! PULA!

Water Problems Continue

In America, having potable drinking water and a constant water supply is never a problem. Almost magically, it is there whenever you need it. If you have followed my story, however, then you know this is not the case in Botswana. I have gone months on end without water and have, on occasion, put buckets outside to catch precious rain water. Some of my peers have to walk up to 5km to fill up buckets to carry home because they don't have running water or a water pump nearby. Water is an issue.

Volunteers in Botswana are lucky, though, in that our water has been safe to drink. I have been drinking it straight from the tap for nearly two years and have had no problems at all. That was until recently, when a number of random quality tests were conducted and the water failed to meet US Embassy standards. They advised us that water in my region intended for human consumption should be boiled. Before receiving this statement, I had been having some stomach problems (eww) so I started boiling my water and they ceased. Boiling water is laborious, especially during the heat of summer when all you want is something cold to drink. As of last week, after talking with a health specialist who told me the situation had been cleared up, I have stopped boiling my water. Gratefully, my tummy has not been rattled so I believe she was right and the water is fine now. (After all, the best way to find out is to try it out and my body isn't reacting...) Happy day, right? Wrong. As annoying as it is having to boil water, it pales in comparison to the alternative... no water.

Today the Water Utilities Corporation released the following statement: "The Water Utilities Corporation (WUC) would like to inform residents of Gaborone City and surrounding areas (Mochudi, Gabane, Kumakwane, Mogoditshane, Tlokweng, Lobatse and their surrounding areas) that it is currently experiencing water supply challenges. Due to this, they will experience low pressure to no water at all indefinitely. Residents are advised to wisely use the little available water." INDEFINITELY?! We are going to be without water indefinitely?! To my great dismay (but not to my surprise), this public statement came out AFTER the water cuts arrived in my village, meaning that none of us had the time to prepare. We are already without water and now without means of stocking up. While we all live with water challenges every day, this is incredibly difficult to hear. Although Peace Corps Volunteers hoard water like it's our jobs, there is never enough for our "shorter" week-long outages. It is in these moments when I wish I had a pit latrine because at least then I could go to the bathroom in peace without worrying about using 3L of water to flush... The question then becomes: "What happens to us and to the local communities if the water really is out indefinitely?"

I beg all of you back in America, please cherish every time you turn the faucet on and water comes out and that it is clean water to drink. I will never take those things for granted again.

You Know... "The Really Fast Scary Train"!

Every so often, something happens here that makes me smile and reminds me that I have once lived in a different world. Today held one such event...

While chatting with the ladies from my NGO about all the great things that Botswana has to offer (and which they readily admitted to not taking advantage of despite proximity and their renowned splendor) - the Okavango Delta, the CKGR, Victoria Falls - the subject of the new amusement park that is just outside Gaborone came up. They were talking about the wave pool and the rides and saying how it could be a tourist attraction too and, with proud smiles on their faces, stating that they had actually been there. They then started talking about "the really fast scary train". I was looking at them absolutely confused. What in the world are these crazy ladies talking about?! What is a "really fast scary train"?! How did we transition to this?! And then it dawned on me. They were talking about the roller-coaster that was constructed last year! A "really fast scary train" is a roller-coaster! Ta-dah! I burst out laughing once I figured it out because it was the most precious thing ever and because I could understand why they were calling it that from what I can only imagine is a really awkward translation from Setswana. It's new, they've never seen one before, and their description fit the bill! Oh cultural and linguistic barriers, how you constantly make me smile!

"Deep in the heart of Africa"

The other day, I went to see a film with my boyfriend. We were just settling in with our popcorn and astros when a preview for the new movie "Zambezia" came on. (Zambezia... as in the Zambezi River in Southern Africa... as in right where I am.) The trailer opens with this line: "Far away, deep in the heart of Africa". I turned to my beloved and asked him what he thinks, as an African, when he hears things like this. He chuckled that all-encompassing chuckle when you already know the answer. He then said that he is used to it but that he thinks it sets a bad image for Africa as a continent and that the West is trying to maintain only the mystery of Africa. He thinks this is actually detrimental and a hindrance to progress here. And, honestly, I agree.

Having lived in Southern Africa for nearly two years now, I can say that the things we think of when we hear "Africa" - this ridiculously huge continent - a mystery and breed intrigue to the West exist and definitely deserve this sort of recognition. I have been told not to walk around at night because lions come in from the bush and a leisurely day on the river is peppered with the potential for hippos to lunge at you from beneath the water's surface. "Wild Africa" is real. But there is another side of it too. One that is almost exactly like life back home with big cities, high fashion, tasty restaurants, shopping malls, and air conditioned movie theaters (like the one I saw this trailer in). This almost always gets left out in the tales of Africa. Maybe if it was mentioned, people would see the potential here and come take a visit or invest or *gasp* create a life here.

But, truly, have you ever heard a movie open with "deep in the heart of the plain-lands in America" or "somewhere in the mountains of America"? No, they just show you open fields or high peaks... and then usually cut to bustling cities. Think about it. This is my PSA from "deep in the heart of Africa"...

Anecdotes for Animals (Hippo Edition)

I have been on more than my fair share of game drives. On each of these game drives, the guides share tidbits of information on the wildlife. I soak this up. Combine that with the fact that I have read and researched about all of the animals that inhabit Botswana and what you're left with is a person that could practically lead the wilderness tours herself. Yes, I am a "Botswana animals trivia nerd" and I'm not afraid to say it. This ridiculous and somewhat excessive knowledge has made me an asset on game drives, especially for those patrons who sit in the back of the vehicles and can't hear the guide properly, and hopefully in quiz nights of the future.

Last weekend, I went on a mini trip up to the Okavango Delta. We spent time on the water and surveying a number of small islands. During a nature walk, our guide told me a new and particularly entertaining anecdote about hippos that I am going to add to my repertoire, in the event that I do decide to become a guide myself... it goes like this:

"A long long time ago, when God was creating all the animals, he made the hippopotamus as an animal of the forests and plains. But the hippo was greedy and, finding plenty of food all around him and no enemies to worry about, he grew fatter and fatter and fatter. The hippo became so fat that he had great difficulty waddling down to the river for his daily drink. This caused the hippo to become envious of all the fishes that swam in the cool water and he wanted to be among them.

The hippo then went to God and asked if he could leave the land to bask in the glory of the water. God, upon hearing the request, said that the fish were very dear and that he was worried the hippo would take its great eating habits and begin to eat the fish until there wouldn't be any left. Although the hippo promised not to eat any of the fish, God untrustingly declared that the hippo must continue living on the lands.

After some time of watching the poor hippo baking in the hot hot sun, his heart softened and God went to the hippo and told him that he would allow him to live in the water if the hippo could prove that he wasn't eating the fish. The hippo then declared that he would lie in the cool of the water by day and then, each night, he would return to the land and scatter his dung on the earth with his tail so that God could see everything that the hippo had eaten and see for himself that there were no fish bones. God believed this would be proof enough that the hippo was eating only grass found on the river banks and allowed the hippo to relax in the waters during all of its days.

So, this is the way, to this very day, that the hippopotamus comes out of the water to scatter its dung as it looks to the heavens and says 'Look God, no fishes!'"

What's In A Name: "Posh Corps"

My friend and fellow Bots 10 wrote a piece for Peace Corps Botswana's latest newsletter that she entitled "What's In A Name". It resonated with me because of its astuteness and clarity in a way that I thought needed to be shared.

To see her post, click here: What's in a Name

For easier access, however, her post is as follows:

"Before joining Peace Corps many of us believed the brochures, expecting mud huts and dinner by moonlight. Those of us invited to Botswana were told we were lucky to be in the ‘posh corps.’ Even from my homestay experience I recognized that many families opt for a satellite dish for their TV before they install running water in the home. I remember thinking why deny yourself when your neighbor enjoys the modern conveniences of running water and electricity, watching soap operas every single night and blasting the radio on Saturday mornings? The question is: does the availability of these amenities make the experience any less challenging or any less of a “Peace Corps experience?”

Some Volunteers live with the beloved “air-con” in a relatively modern apartment or house, but what about those living the ‘old’ Peace Corps experience in a traditional round house and making the trek to the pit latrine at all hours. There are even some Volunteers living without electricity entirely, often in the context of a village with only a few compounds connected to power. Some opted for these living situations and others simply acquiesced. Are they any more of a Volunteer because of their deviation from modern conveniences and willingness to adapt? Even if they live without them day-to-day, they may occasionally enjoy an episode of 30 Rock on their Mac, powered by the juice borrowed from the local clinic earlier that day, all the while eating their rice and tomato sauce dinner by candlelight. Or they may travel to another Volunteer’s site for the weekend to take a nice bath and charge up all electronic devices. I have both electricity and running water with a flush toilet in my house. I have often wished I had neither simply because the wiring is so terrible and the water supply so unreliable that I’d rather learn to live without than have to live with unannounced outages. When water was out for seven days, believe me, the flush toilet was a curse!

Whether you have these amenities or not, you may have the friend who has the latrine and have spent the holiday in a teeny village bordering the bush without electricity, inevitably learning what it is like to live in these varying conditions, adapting to the circumstances or learning to live without. One Volunteer put it to me like this: “When you go visit your Volunteer friends you immediately learn three things about their place: how to flush the toilet, how to get water, and how to bath yourself.” These few words could not be more true. Who knew that there could be so much versatility to your lifestyle within the course of a month? The key to this revelation is the ability to adapt. There is so much variation in the conveniences and difficulties in each village and at each person’s site so whether first-hand, vicariously or temporarily we all experience these conditions.

The reality is that we adapt whether we have these conveniences or not and that has been the common Peace Corps experience through 50 years of service. While the accessibility to things like running water define our daily life in terms of stocking water and washing dishes, it is surprising how quickly those behaviors become mindlessly routine, even normal. One thing that I’ve learned in my service is that your Peace Corps experience becomes less defined by how well you fulfill some 50-year-old stereotype and more about how you find a contentment both in your home and in your community, with the people you work with and the people you socialize with. When you do, all of those seeming amenities fade into the periphery. The truth it may be easier to live without water than it is to find a capable and willing counterpart for a project. It’s may be easier to live without electricity than to get accustomed to the stares on combi rides and the incessant “lekgoa!” resounding from some indiscriminate location.  

While Botswana is an anomaly in its relative wealth to other Peace Corps countries, the notion of being flexible remains, applicable around the globe and across the board. It is this flexibility and learning to make a home in the unfamiliar territory and a friend in the sea of strangers that brings together a common experience for all Volunteers at all levels of development." --Virginia Fall

Changing Weather

I have talked about the blazing hot summers and the surprisingly freezing cold winters in Botswana but I have yet to write about the perplexing in-between. Perhaps this is because it is short lived and therefore doesn't leave a lasting impression. But it is a really interesting time of year right now and I want to share it with anyone still sticking with me here...

We are reaching the end of winter now which means it is warming up during the day, especially when you're sitting in the sunshine, but it still gets frigid cold at night (but even this is getting more bearable, meaning you don't see your breath anymore). I have found this time of year very enjoyable. I wear a t-shirt and jeans during the day (maybe with a cardigan when I go inside) and then I grab a fleece when the sun goes down. I like it. It's pleasant after sweating my life away for 9 months then shivering for 2.

The best thing about this time of year, though, is people watching. Why? Because clothes span the spectrum of attire from something you would see in the arctic to the bahamas! I kid you not! You will be walking through the village and see someone in a tank top (thick straps) and bermuda shorts and then a few meters away will be someone in a wool coat, turtleneck, and beanie. You will literally see people of all shapes and sizes wearing clothing fit for every season. I can only assume that the quantity of clothing on a person is a reflection of what time they got up and dressed in the morning. But, I can tell you, I really love it. It keeps you on your toes, is endlessly entertaining, and frees you up to wear whatever it is you want to wear in whatever clothing combination you choose to wear it. This time of year is my favorite.

Soup and Standards

Although I am on the mend, I have been sick for nearly a week now (my first actual ailment since coming to Botswana) so I decided to make myself some hot soup and relax in hopes of getting myself back in tip-top shape by tomorrow. I recently acquired some delicious-looking (mailed from the States) soup packets from a PCV that just finished his service and thought they would make a great starting point to what would be a hearty soup. I then started cutting up onions and potatoes and corn to put in. About 30 minutes later, I ladled out a giant bowl of deliciousness.

Fast forward ten minutes and I look down at my partially eaten bowl of soup and realize that some of my herbs and spices look a little peculiar. On further inspection, I decide that, floating among the seasonings that were making my soup so tasty, were also little oblong bugs. I had a mini freak out (of the "am I going to make myself sick off the soup that's supposed to make me healthy" variety) and then proceeded to the kitchen with my bowl. What happened next is where this post becomes about standards... because, for the next two hours, I literally picked the bugs out of the giant pot of soup that was on the stove and put the remainder of the soup in a storage container. Doing this made me pause for a moment, however. I then walked over to my desk, grabbed a sticky note out, and wrote "Contemplate before eating" then affixed it to the soup-filled tupperware in my fridge. I mean, I did use a lot of good veggies in it... and it is cooked... and I did spend hours picking through to make sure there are no more bugs in it... Sigh.

When I told this story to two other PCVs from my group, neither seemed alarmed. One said it was extra protein and asked if I kept eating and the other said "you talking about bugs in your soup makes me want to eat soup". Oh how 14 months of living in the bush has changed us... TIA - This is Africa!

Oh This Life...

Last Monday I received a notice pushed under my front door from the Botswana Water Utilities Corporation stating that my water supply would be disconnected due to non-payment. I went over to my kitchen faucet to see if my water had already been turned off and, sure enough, after about four seconds it fizzled out. I went to another faucet and the same thing happened. I ran outside to check my tap and no water. Sigh. I tried calling my landlord (who is responsible for paying these bills with the rent check given to him from the government) but he did not answer. I then called my DAC (who is the government official that pays my rent etc) and also Peace Corps - both stated they would investigate the matter and get back to me. No news back from either on Monday or on Tuesday. On Wednesday, someone from my NGO managed to reach my landlord, who said the sizable bill was from the previous tenant and that he did not have the money to pay the bill in full for a couple months. (Translation: No water for Tija for a couple months.) Big sigh. I spoke to Peace Corps about this later that day and they said they would negotiate with the landlord and the Water Utilities Corporation and get back to me. It has now been a week and a half without water (although it has been dripping slowly out from the "hot tap" for a few minutes at a time - perhaps it is stored in my geyser for "safe-keeping" - so I am able to splash water on things to wash them and do basics like brush my teeth and use the toilet every couple of hours). I am still waiting to hear if my water will be turned back on or if I will have to move houses in Gabane (which PC said may happen if a solution is not reached with expediency) or what my future holds. For now, it seems my future includes carrying my buckets around to the neighbors to beg for water and traveling to Gaborone to steal baths from my generous friends. I will update everyone on the situation when I hear more - fingers crossed that it is soon!

P.s. As I type this, my electricity just went out... Now I am at no water and no electricity. Good thing I have a good sense of humor! Oh this life... TIA!

Weather Realization

A few days ago, I learned something that is very disturbing to anyone that believes 117F/47C is way too hot to be existing in. I am one of those people.

The news is that thermometers melt in the sun in Botswana. (I told you the sun was scorching here!) So what this means is that they gauge the temperatures here using thermometers placed in the shade... The shade where we all go during the summer to hide from the blazing sun because it is about 15 degrees F cooler there... Meaning when I have checked the weather and seen temperatures rise to 117, it's really much much MUCH hotter! Holy smokes folks! I knew it was hot these last six months but, it turns out, I had no idea how hot! (Good thing it's turning to winter now and we can finally cool off!)

Holy Weather of Craziness

For months, temperatures have risen to a balmy 117 degrees Fahrenheit around Botswana. Sweat has become the norm and constantly craving salty foods as you fill up your water bottle for the hundredth time is completely expected. To say that it has been hot would be an understatement. We are longing for the cool days (but not the frigid nights) that will come in the upcoming months.

Fortunately, the days feel less formidable and the evenings are starting to cool off to the point where snuggling up to frozen water bottles is no longer necessary and, in fact, lights blankets and long pants are almost required. This has been a welcomed change after months and months of mugginess. Realizing we might actually be getting some relief from the heat after a few weeks of slow and steady temperature decline (and reaching for my jacket on the way out the door), I became overjoyed and decided to check the forecast for the upcoming weeks with the hope that it would continue. What did I discover? These "cool nights" that have me shivering unless I'm under my fleece throw blanket and sheets is still in the upper-60s. And the days that seem comfortable, if not cool, now are in the low-90s. My body is adjusting to the temperatures of Botswana.

It's hard to believe that almost exactly a year ago, when I first stepped off the plane in Botswana, I felt the hot sun scorching my skin and thought the Batswana were crazy to be wearing their jackets and exclaiming "go serame" ("too cold"). I understand now. It is getting cold. Who would have ever thought that I would say this is too cold? But, after months of weather reaching above the 100 degree mark, it is. I am now fearful of the winter, both here and at home. Bless.

Water Outages: A Fact of Life

In America, we often take having constant access to water for granted. Something I learned very early on after moving to Botswana is that water is a precious commodity. We often go for a few days without water and this may stretch to a week or more. In preparation, most Peace Corps Volunteers store water - we never throw out a bottle because water could be kept there and we each have a few buckets that are used solely for stored water. It is a way of life that we have adjusted to. "Ga go na mathata", as we would say, "no problem".

This week has been particularly hot for the time of year. Temperatures have been about 40C/104F. This means that water is even more valued. Unfortunately for us, the water in my village has been out since Monday evening. We were told that the outage is due to a pipe bursting in the main water line in Mogoditshane (our neighboring village, between Gabane and Gaborone). There is no telling when the pipe will be fixed and water restored. The government is set to bring big tanks to Gabane for people to queue at to get water. To me, this seems like a fruitless endeavor since the village has nearly 13,000 people and a queue of that magnitude is sure to have more than a few snafus.

So what is a lowly Peace Corps Volunteer to do in a time like this? Cower in fear? Shrivel up in thirst? Pack a bag and get the heck outta dodge? No way Jose! Seeing the storm clouds roll in last night, I grabbed all the buckets in my house and stuck them in my yard to catch the rain water! I now have roughly 20L of water at my disposal! Peace Corps ingenuity win? I think so!

Two Absolutely Adorable Revelations of Children in Bots

I want to share a couple things that I have noticed in my time here. They are in reference to some absolutely adorable revelations made by kids here that I bet you'd never think of. Prepare to say "awww"!

Flush Toilets

This is a pit latrine. It is essentially the same sort of pit latrine that is found all over Botswana. For many of my readers, it is most easily defined as an outhouse. In America, this sort of toilet is very uncommon (except at music festivals or major outdoor events when we set up porta-pottys). Here, however, it is very widespread, as many families do not have indoor plumbing. Totally normal. 

This is a flush toilet. It is essentially the same sort of flush toilet that is found all over the United States. It has also been adopted around the globe, including in Botswana. Most households that have running water and indoor plumbing have similar toilets. Both of my homes in Botswana were among those with flush toilets (albeit with their own idiosyncrasies - another story). Because I am so accustomed to having a flush toilet, I thought nothing of it when the kids that came over to my house asked to use the toilet. At first, they would creep into my bathroom and sit on it, do their business, and leave without flushing. After a while, I figured this out and decided to show them how to flush. The first time I flushed the toilet, the kids went running out of the bathroom screaming. They were scared of the sound and didn't want to stick around to find out what that sound indicated. This made me giggle. Once they got used to it, however, they found the flushing to be so so so aweeesssoooommmeeee! And then the kids would venture into the bathroom, to use the facilities I assumed, and then I wouldn't see them again for fifteen or so minutes. But I would hear the toilet flush a half dozen times at least. They were absolutely fascinated by the flushing action, watching the water spin around and go down the drain then fill back up again. It was almost like a game. Now, this could be misinterpreted as a fun game or entertainment and perhaps not quite the revelation I imagined. I asked at my new NGO if that was something they dealt with too when the youngest kids (around 3 or 4-years-old) started coming to the preschool for the first time. My question was met with a resounding YES. It turns out that this humorous process was not just followed by the Kums Kids but rather by kids all over Botswana that are being introduced, for their very first time, to the magic and wonderment of the flush toilet.

Escalators

One day, when I was still living in Kumakwane, I heard a story from the other PCV that lived in the village of three little girls who were very dressed up and excited about something. When she asked them what they were so excited about, they responded (in that soft-spoken adorable way that only little children can) that they were going to Gaborone to see the "flying stairs". Of course, the image of stairs with wings on it were the first things that crossed her mind. Where were these mythical stairs? She inquired further. They told her that the new mall at the bus rank had flying stairs and that they were getting to go to Gabs to ride them. It suddenly dawned on her that they were referring to the escalator that had recently been put in. Wow. How precious!

So there you have it - two absolutely adorable revelations made by children in Botswana. Things we take for granted having grown up with them but which are amazing discoveries here.

Perplexing Botswana Observation #983

I am from the Pacific Northwest. I am very familiar with umbrellas and their function. Umbrellas keep you dry when it's raining. Or at least that's what I thought... Perplexing Botswana Observation #983 is that umbrellas are for shielding you from the sun and NOT the rain.

Since it started getting ridiculously hot in October, I have seen my fair share of people walking around with umbrellas. They have acted as portable shade from the blazing hot sun. I thought to myself "genius!" and wondered if they could figure out portable air conditioners as well. It wasn't until a few days ago that I realized it was actually the only thing the umbrellas were used for.

A few days ago, much to my merriment, it rained. I had a meeting in another village so I grabbed my umbrella and started walking towards the bus stop. Halfway down the road I realized that I was the only person with an umbrella. I'm usually the only person without one, choosing to enjoy the sunshine (like a true Seattlite), and now that it's raining, I am again alone. This seemed so strange to me. Either I have this backwards or they do, right? Well, no, we probably both have this right given where we come from. I lived in Seattle, where sunbreaks were a blessing and rain somewhat common and they are from Botswana where it rains in the summer when the sun is so hot that it scorches your skin. Obviously we have found our own very valuable uses for the umbrella. Even still, it baffles and humors me. I think I'm going to just carry an umbrella around all the time (or never?). Oh Botswana, you continue to surprise me!

Photo Courtesy of Marion and Tish Mobley