Gregalder.com

Sometimes I sit here in front of the computer and think, What can I tell the folks back home of interest? What's happening here? How have I changed? I was doing just that when I felt the need to use the restroom and recalled: I don't use toilet paper anymore. I mean, I no longer use the rolls you buy in supermarkets. Not many people do around here.

When I lived with the Khethisa family during my training they used the kids' homework papers and newspaper pages in their latrine. Come to find out, that's pretty much what everyone here uses to wipe.

How do I eat? With my mouth, of course. Oh, like, am I eating well? Like, what am I eating here these days? My garden's flourishing right now, so food is plentiful actually. The only real hiccup in my diet is a lack of meat. Let me tell you about a meal I made the other night that was just slightly better than typical.

Yesterday was Saturday, and I washed some socks and underwear. I often get students to wash most of my other clothing. I rock climbed, though some little kids hassled me, wanting to talk the whole time.

I practiced a lot of Sesotho with students and people in the village- I learned how to call someone selfish (U ipona ka bo uena feela), how to say I'm not sleepy (Ha kea tsoaroa ke boroko), how to ask people where they met each other (U n'u teana le eena kae?), the word for songs the boys sing after circumcision (mangai).

The computers have not been working around here for a few weeks, which is why I have delayed in writing. See, only on weekends can I taxi up to the capital to use a computer. If I cannot access things on that weekend day, then I must wait until the next weekend to try again.

I knew the boys, er, men would be returning from initiation school soon, but nobody seemed to know exactly when. Then one day there they were. Down from the mountain. Skin painted red, a burdensome load of necklaces on, barefoot, wearing earrings and grass hats and trinkets pinned and sparkling all over their red blankets.

In Lesotho, students and schools acquire their reputations based mostly on their national exam results. Students take these exams at the end of 7th, 10th, and 12th grades, and they are commonly referred to as the Standard 7, Junior Certificate (JC), and Cambridge Overseas School Certificate (COSC) exams respectively. The Standard 7 and JC exams are created and graded entirely within Lesotho.

So I'm sitting in the staff room with Mrs. Malimpho on Friday, thinking about how nice it is that we're getting all this rain, and how nice it is to be sitting in the staff room, warm and dry and protected, when this 9th grader, Mamahloli, comes trotting in from the tempest.

Things are happening at Ngoana Jesu High School, and the best part about it is that I have had little to do with the changes. The teachers and students are building this place themselves.

There once were scholarships available through Lesotho's Ministry of Education for high school students based on academic performance, my principal tells me. But the system of distribution became so corrupted that they ceased to be.

They were my favorite class last year, but when I walked in on the first day of this new school year the girls said, smiling, "Oooooh, you're fat."

"I'm fat? Is that good?"

"Yesssss."

"Oh. Well, you know why I'm fat? Because when my mom visited she fed me very well. Lots of meat."