The Place That Still Keeps Half of My Heart

 I could have never predicted that a place so foreign would change so much inside of me.  It still amazes me that in one short month my life was shaken by the Mountain Kingdom of Lesotho.

                I had the opportunity to travel to Lesotho in the summer of 2011 with Wittenberg University. When I asked fellow students about their past experiences, they had trouble finding to words to explain how life-changing it was. They lit up with excitement talking about their trips and their love for a place they spent such a short time in.  I had trouble understanding why it was so difficult for someone to explain how it changed their life. Looking back, nothing could have prepared me for the vast emotions I would feel, and now I too struggle with expressing how one short month changed me forever. 

                When I first arrived in Lesotho, I felt like I was placed in another universe. I was completely immersed in the culture and in awe by its beauty.  The sky looked as if it painted with watercolors behind the mountains. Cattle were herded across the countryside by young boys wrapped in brightly colored blankets. On the roadside, men and women purchased grain from small shops made from scraps of metal sheet and barrels. As we drove past, the Basotho people smiled and waved excitedly. I felt so welcomed, at home, and at peace. 

                Lesotho tested me more physically, spiritually, and emotionally than anything before. I have never shed so many tears or shared so much laughter. There were moments I felt like I could accomplish so much, and times where I felt like there was no hope. At times I grew angry, and numb. But, with every negative emotion, I met someone who made me overwhelmed with joy.  I made many new friends among the community while doing self-sustainability projects. It was incredible working side by side, moving toward a common goal. The common goals allowed an opportunity to see similarities between people who live in such different circumstances. I have never laughed so much, or fell in love so quickly with a community. But between moments of laughter, there were moments of sadness and anger. It was difficult to face the realities that were present in such an unbelievably beautiful place. Innocent people across Lesotho were, and still are, dying from AIDS.  Many Basotho do not have transportation, let alone access to healthcare or education. Lesotho's complex social and political beliefs make it difficult for change. I could not fathom how this injustice was going on when I was so blessed with what I had at home. I knew in the back of my mind that extreme poverty was in the world, but actually being within it gave a whole knew meaning to its existence. I felt selfish, and undeserving of anything. It was times like this that I felt defeated and hopeless. But when I watched and listened to people who were suffering, they were so strong and resilient.  During a time when I questioned my faith, and entire existence, I couldn't understand how innocent people were joyful of life despite being sentenced to a painful death. I admired such optimism. The community is truly a family in Lesotho, and although there may be suffering, there is support. Life is to live through other people.

                The Basotho are the strongest, most independent, and beautiful people I have ever met. They have so much hope and love.  Lesotho taught me how special life is, and despite what life may hand you, it is up to you to live it. My mind and heart never battled so much in my life, and because of that I am forever changed. The Basotho people gave me more than I can express. I am so thankful to them. A piece of me still lies in Lesotho, and always will.

-Willie Duffy

Willie is currently an intern with Bloom Africa and a junior at Wittenberg University.

 

Looking back, looking forward: The faces and hands that stole my heart

In the summer of 2011, I had the opportunity to join over thirty of my fellow Wittenberg students for a month-long service trip to Lesotho. As many before me have said, it is an experience that is almost impossible to put into words. Each time I reflect, my mind wanders to a different element of the experience. The work was hard, but as we drove by fields and homes on our way to the day’s worksite, I saw men and women–small children even–bent over at their own work. The drive every day told the same story: to Morija, Maseru, Motsekua, Roma. Everywhere we looked, the Basotho were tending to their fields; feeling the strain in my muscles, therefore, was my own personal way of honoring those who are chained to that unyielding earth day after day in the struggle to get by.

The plains, the skies, the mountains: everything brought me back to the people I met there. When I sit under that great sky, surrounded by the Maluti mountains, I realize the enormity of the universe, the seemingly infinitesimal space my being holds They bear witness and struggle on. In the face of unimaginable suffering, kicking a soccer ball, showing me a pair of hand-crafted wire glasses, looking up at my face–somehow brings a smile to theirs. As I sat wrapped in a blanket under the endless expanse of stars at the Ramabanta trade post, nestled high in the mountains, I was shown the brilliance of each seemingly tiny light–whether stationary in the sky or hurtling toward the earth. Each of the people, especially the children, who I was lucky enough to meet are just like those stars. They are so small, easily overlooked by those with a provincial mindset; they are the faces all too often forgotten. But the trip showed me these children, and I witnessed sights that caught my eye and brought a knot to my throat, as a tiny hand stole over my heart.for this moment in time. But the people I met are indeed magnanimous.

Khothatso, my thirteen-year-old mokhotsi, (friend,) is the owner of that hand. I got to know him and his baby brother during the weeks we stayed at Thorns in Roma. There is so much life, so much vigor in his tiny frame! His eyes are old and deep; they seem to hold the secrets of the universe and wisdom far beyond their years. One evening as we walked down the street, holding hands as I held his brother in my other arm, he rattled on excitedly about his future, his schoolwork, and the letters we’d exchanged that day; my mind settled on the only way I knew how to capture those eyes: un mundo en sus ojos, “a world in his eyes.” I walked in silence, amazed. The boy clasping my hand whose face was hunger-stricken, full of pain and beauty, smiled up at me as he gave me these precious moments that have changed my life. The boy hugging tightly to my other arm, with legs wrapped around my waist, is only one of the millions born dying.

So the trip, which started out being focused on work and service, ended up being focused on people. The other students and I were motivated each day to complete our work to give as best as we could to the people that were moving our hearts and changing our lives. The little voices outside the gate at Thorns, the faces that peeped around the brick wall each time we walked by became the center of our world there. The calls of “shoot me! Shoot me!” were ceaseless; therefore, the picture-taking was endless. And each time one of us would capture the flitting of these little bodies in our rectangular frames, the camera would be torn from us by the tiny hands clamoring to see what the box would show: their own faces. This aspect of the trip, then, aligned very well with one of our intended tasks; we showed these children their own faces in the pictures we took, just as we endeavored to show the Basotho through our work tasks the power they have within to help themselves.

In looking back, I notice that the children of Lesotho embody one of my favorite quotes: “happiness cannot be pursued; it must ensue” (Viktor E. Frankl). The “pursuit of happiness,” a goal so widely sought after by many in the United States, is not dependent upon the things in your possession, the degree attached to your name, or the measure of the fame you’ve accrued. I saw happiness in the giggles and full-belly laughs that escaped in white wisps into the frigid morning air, in the warmth of community that held the cold at bay, in the bond I formed with those who were on my trip. I saw happiness on the mouths bent into grins, in the smiling eyes that glistened with an indescribable power. I felt happiness in the squeezes of the tiny hands that yearned to hold mine as we ran, in the excited elbow nudges from kids successfully scrambling to take the soccer ball from my significantly less-practiced feet. I felt the happiness in my own heart as I looked at these faces, as I looked up at those Ramabanta stars.

This happiness fills me even as I write this, in thinking of my past experience and in looking forward. I have the wonderful opportunity of accompanying Dr. Rosenberg and another set of around thirty Wittenberg students to Lesotho this winter. I am so looking forward to spending my holidays giving back to the people who have changed my heart and changed my life. I can’t wait to experience the wonder, the amazement, the beauty all over again and to see a new set of students as their minds churn, their views shift, and their lives change. I am looking forward to the happiness that no one can buy.

Khotso, Pula, Nala.

Kali

Kali Almdale is approaching her final year at Wittenberg University, where she is pursuing degrees in Biology and English.  Kali traveled to Lesotho in June of 2011.

We Are One, We Are Basotho

It’s True, Sechaba ke poho (power lies in the nation). More than ever before has this phrase become so relevant and at the heart of many Basotho. Of course not everyone believed it to be true, well not until recently. The phrase has always been used during political campaigns with very few really questioning what it entailed.  I believe that in the first half of 2012, the political situation in Lesotho gave definition to “the power rests within the people.”

There is a first time for everything.  This year’s elections, unlike previous years, were very different. Reasons as to why they were different are many, but I'll simply make reference to the realization by Basotho that power lies in us. For the first time, pre and post election time was peaceful. For the first time, the youth was actively involved throughout the entire electoral process. For the first time, elections in Lesotho were internally and externally  regarded as free and fair. For the first time, technologies and social media were used effectively bringing awareness across borders of election news and messages. For the first time, a coalition government is formed and governs Lesotho. For the first time, rather than dividing people, our political parties have united Basotho. And for the first time ever, a leader  voluntarily steps down, giving up all powers as head of state.

Sechaba ke poho!   

Lesotho has always been politically divided since independence,  and this  has resulted in the vast disintegration of Basotho. For years, employment, educational opportunities, friendships, social status, etc., were all dependent on what political party won and was favoured.. The divisions caused tensions, instability, demoralization, prevented development, and essentially the perplexity of who Basotho are.

The Basotho culture is established upon the grounds of unity. There’s a Sotho proverb that says Lefu la noha ke ho tsamaea e le ngoe, (the death of a snake is the result of its solitude.) The message is that individualism kills. Another proverb says Letsoele le beta poho, (unity is victory.) These and many other proverbs encouraging unity have been passed down from generation to generation. Our single ethnic identity and language reinforce the union of Basotho and what can be achieved when we are in union.

Sechaba ke poho.

The journey has only begun for Basotho. My hope is that the recent actualization, that power for change does not lie in individuals, remains.  And after these elections, I hope that collectively within the nation, the unity between Basotho continues to prevail.

  

Khotso.Pula.Nala.

Peace.Rain.Prosperity.

Mosa Makutsoane

Mosa was born in Hlotse, Lesotho, and is finishing her final year of undergraduate studies pursuing degrees in Environmental Science and International Studies. 

Being Changed by Being in Lesotho

My experience in Lesotho, Africa can be described in the very least, as a life-changing experience. I know that I am not alone in returning from the Mountain Kingdom completely changed after living in there for just a month. In this short time period, I was completely immersed in a new culture, language and place. Completely exposed to new people, lifestyles and concepts I had the opportunity to learn so much, not just about Lesotho but about myself as well. When I was accepted into the 2011 Wittenberg in Lesotho program, I had no idea what to expect. Ironically, the only, yet best advice I had ever received before going was, “Have no expectations and keep an open mind”. By hearing the passion and emotion other students had while talking about their experience made it near impossible to not have any expectations. Having never left the country before, I knew this trip would have a heavy impact on my life. I was not sure how it would affect my life or why it would if it did; the only thing I knew for certain was that Lesotho, Africa was going to be the most memorable experience of my life.

After arriving in Lesotho, it did not take long to notice the breathtaking scenery of the Mountain Kingdom.  We arrived in a small rural community, encompassed by mountains and landscape. It was impossible to take my eyes away from the window on our long bus rides to our work sites. At first I started taking as many pictures as possible, just to reaffirm that I was actually there. However, it was not long before I noticed that the picture I just took was nothing compared to the feeling of actually being there. Whether it was watching boys herd cattle down the road, looking out over the whole town at the top of a mountain, seeing women carrying their babies wrapped tightly in blankets, or star gazing in the middle of night, there was something serene and peaceful about just being in Lesotho. Lesotho’s atmosphere was unlike anything I had ever felt, and despite being on the opposite side of the globe, I had never felt more at home.

The majority of my days spent in Lesotho were at various work sites around Maseru, Roma and Morija. We painted classrooms, built shelving units, a green house, piggery and chicken coop, planted trees outside of a school and orphanage and built two playgrounds. These projects we completed were specifically chosen, as they can be self-sustained by the Basotho and have long term effects. They were intended to help sustain a healthy and happy life and to empower the Basotho. As a unit we were dedicated to our cause in helping these organizations accomplish whatever they needed. And although the work may sometimes have gotten tedious or exhausting, no one ever complained. Laughter and smiles were never absent at the work sites and it enabled us to grow closer to one another and to the Basotho we were working side by side with. By the time I left each work site, the visible progress of our work was extremely self-fulfilling. It was an amazing feeling to go home at night knowing someone appreciated what we had done. The Basotho never let us forget how thankful they were for our help, when in reality, I was the one thanking them. Not only was I learning how to mix cement in a wheelbarrow, or how to nail shelving units together, I was learning how to work together, how to problem solve, how to be patient and dedicated. Working at the sites enabled me to learn not only about Lesotho, but about myself.

However, Lesotho does not bring only smiles and joy. While fulfilling our service requirement of the trip by painting the schools, or building a playground, we were exposed to the harsh realities of the issues facing the Basotho. The impact AIDS has on the population is detrimental.  Access to sufficient health care or education was rare and the political, social and economic structures of Lesotho created very little mobility for the Basotho.  Every day I met children who were orphaned by AIDS and women being exploited for their labor, struggling for a substantial life. There were numerous nights I spent in bed crying, feeling frustrated and defeated. There were moments where I lost hope and thought that there was nothing I could do to make a difference for these people that I have grown to love and care about. Sometimes I questioned why I was there, or what my purpose was. It was nights similar to these that reality exceeded expectations. You can try to prepare as much as you can to see hardship and poverty, but actually being in the midst of it, yields much stronger emotions. It was during this time that I completely reevaluated my life and values. 

But without the bad, you cannot experience the good. This extends even to Lesotho. Even when I felt the most defeated or angry and lost hope in the future, the Basotho were there to teach me. Day by day it became apparent to me what mattered most in life, what was truly important and necessary to live a happy life. Despite hardships and struggles that would cause suffering, the Basotho found happiness in their lives. Whether it was a smile from a woman in line at the store, a wave from a child on the side of a road, or a hand written letter by one of the children in the community, the Basotho demonstrated values and perspectives that I would soon cherish. They appreciated my friendship, my stories and willingness to help them. I witnessed as they worked together as a community in order for everyone to benefit. The determination and passion the Basotho have for themselves and their country enabled me to find that hope I had once lost. It enabled me to learn that nothing is impossible, and by working together we can move towards a brighter future.  

Leaving Lesotho was one of the most difficult things I had ever done. I felt so comfortable, peaceful and happy there. I started finding happiness in the smallest places, and what once used to worry me seemed petty. I did not have an epiphany, and there was no moment in particular that changed my life. However, I was a changed person by the time I arrived back in the United States. I felt different. I sounded different. I was just different. I talked slower and softer, I smiled at more passer-byers, I looked at the sky more often, I thought about people more frequently. Everything about the way I live my everyday life has been affected by Lesotho. I learned so much during that short month, both about the country itself and about myself. It was truly a life-changing experience and I still feel lucky that I had that chance. Whenever I am asked about the Wittenberg in Lesotho trip I always recommend going with no expectations. Lesotho, Africa, will change you if you let it. Remain open minded and be willing to endure the emotional rollercoaster that these changes require, because it will be worth it. It was the most challenging thing I have ever done, emotionally, physically and mentally, yet I would not take back a single second of it. This experience was uplifting and inspiring. It taught me an immeasurable amount about myself and my relation to the world around me. The friendships I made in Lesotho are life-long. There is not a single day where I do not think about them or wonder how they are doing. I think about our memories and reread our letters. The people in Lesotho have changed who I am, and I can only hope that one day they understand what an impact they had on my life.

-Briana Leary

Briana is studying philosophy at Wittenberg University and traveled to Lesotho in June of 2011.

After Awareness

At the beginning of this month, I was fortunate enough to travel to Lesotho for the first time with the Springfield Rotary. As a Wittenberg student, I was very familiar with the country through the stories of my friends who had traveled there during service trips in the summer. I watched many come back changed with a new outlook on life after just one month in the country. But even though I heard all the stories, I was completely unprepared for the influence this trip would have on me. And in fact, I am still having trouble putting into words exactly how it is that I am changed.

            

Above all, the trip made me aware of so many issues that go unnoticed or ignored in my daily life. I learned what the term “economic disparity” actually means for our country as well as abroad. The question came up throughout the trip of why we should put our efforts into helping other countries when there are people right here in the U.S. experiencing extreme poverty. I myself thought about this a lot. I believe it’s so important for us to give back to the communities we live in, and contribute our own assets to the growth of own neighborhoods. But this trip showed me that I am also a part of a global community. The people of Lesotho are also my neighbors. Kaofela rea tsoana. We are all the same.

With children after a hike in Roma, Lesotho

The second half of our trip, we traveled down toward Capetown, stopping to go on safari, hiking up to the lighthouse at Cape Point, and taking the boat out to Seal Island. The transition from being a visitor in Lesotho to a tourist in South Africa was one of the strangest and most eye-opening aspects of the trip. And for me, it solidified the global awareness I felt I had gained through my experience.

            

But I think the biggest feeling I’ve experienced is this question of, what now? What comes after awareness? At times in Lesotho, and during our time in South Africa, I was overwhelmed by the poverty and the inequality that exists there. How do we even begin to combat a problem this big? And how do we do it from so far away? I think that part of the challenge of international service is communicating the story of Lesotho to the people back home. Raising awareness is the first part of my job now that I’ve had the opportunity to travel there myself and become acutely aware of the poverty in this country. But we also have an opportunity to go one step further.

On our last day in Lesotho, we visited the high school in Maseru to meet the newly formed Interact Club there. During our meeting, a boy named Theko performed a poem for us that he had written himself. In it, he told us about his life, how both of his parents were lost and described in detail what a life on the streets means for the youth in Lesotho. Hard work and long hours for little pay is the most many youth in Lesotho can hope to achieve. Theko told us the very things that we hear every day but still don’t seem to know about—children waiting for leftovers on the street with no home to go to at the end of the day and no one to care for them when they get sick. But despite these odds, the last stanza of his poem was filled with hope:

Damn it, it’s okay.

It’s okay with me being a resist

But one thing for sure

I will step on stones that

Haters throw at me

Till I make it to the top

And show future what I will hold for it

Because it’s not what the future holds for me,

But what I hold for it.

Theko, standing left of his teacher, at his High School

The last lines of this poem show a spirit in the Basotho that is just waiting to bloom. Theko has the power to change not only his future, but the future of his community. I think that Theko is a minority in the sense that his hope is at the surface. Many of the kids in Lesotho still need to be empowered, to be given the tools and the chance to change their futures. Hidden under the gravity of each of their situations is the strength they need to change it. This is where we can help. After awareness comes our ability to equip youth like Theko with the resources they need to be the change in Lesotho and uncover the possibilities of a brighter future.

Khotso,

Catie 

Catie Stipe is finishing her senior year at Wittenberg University, and visited Lesotho in March 2012.

What Hunger Games Are We Playing?

This weekend, I’ve heard the word “hunger” a lot.  Just about every time, it’s been about the movie “The Hunger Games.” This movie is based on the novel, which really gained popularity while I was serving as a volunteer in South Africa.  So naturally, I feel pretty left out from the public discourse on this book and movie.  So for me, each time I heard or saw someone speaking about the debut of this movie, I got caught up on a memory of the last time I confronted true hunger.

Three weeks ago, I left for a 10-day trip back to Lesotho.  I was so excited to travel back, especially since friend and fellow BLOOM Africa team member, William Thomas, joined me.  I always enjoy exploring Lesotho with close friends.  It allows me to share my passions and the place that has changed my life forever.  And despite my overall excitement to return, there was a calm subtleness to my voyage.  I was going home, and I was comfortable with that.

After working off the jet lag and initial arrival activities, we headed to the Mountain Kingdom in the Sky.  Oh, it was good to be back.  Besides the obvious ambiance and majestic mountainous backdrops, I was simply happy to see the friends I’ve made over the years. 

In Roma, I have befriended a particular family since 2009.  The family consists of a grandmother and her four grandchildren, who she has to raise because of the ravishing affects of HIV/AIDS.  The children’s ages range from 13 to 4 years.  I have created a special bond with the grandmother, who is able to speak enough English so we can share in conversation each time we see each other.  And over the years, I have become friends with 13 year old Tiisetso. 

Reuniting with grandmother Rose

When I first traveled to Lesotho in 2009, Tiisetso was an outgoing and rambunctious 10 year old.  Despite not speaking much English, he and I were able to create a bond and friendship that transcended barriers.  And although we didn’t share a lot of words, laughter was our common bond.  This friendship continued as I visited Lesotho multiple times in 2010 and 2011.  Even as I walk throughout the village now, children come up and say, “Aren’t you Tiisetso’s friend?”

So when I returned this month and noticed a difference in Tiisetso’s smile and charisma, I was worried.  I could tell right away that something wasn’t right with my friend.  His glowing smile was hard to find.  And despite growing a bit in height, he seemed more slender than I had remembered.  He was becoming a teenager, but the amount of food his family was able to provide was still the same as when he was a child, if not less.  I felt the difference in Tiisetso’s persona, so one day I asked him, “What’s wrong?”  And his simple, but profound, response was, “I’m hungry.”

I had no reply.  What could I say or do that would change the way he felt.  I have never felt that kind of hunger in my life.  I’ve been blessed my whole life, not only to always be satisfied, but to often have the choice in what I ate.  It was, perhaps, one of the only times in my life where I was left completely speechless.  Holding back the tears and anger wasn’t easy as I tried to change the subject.  Tiisetso somberly got up from under the tree and started kicking a dilapidated soccer ball.  Since that time, I can’t get the thought of hunger out of my mind.

So as the nation (and world) head to the theaters to watch a new movie, I can’t help but think of my friend half a world away.  For me, the real hunger game is not a game or fictional scenario.  In fact, it’s a matter of life, happiness, and even death.  Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with a great novel and movie to let our imaginations run wild.  Imagination is what creates hope and hope is what creates futures.  And honestly, I wish every time I heard the word ‘hunger’ or ‘hungry’ I didn’t have a story of my friend in Lesotho, barely able to speak or crack a smile because of his lack of food.  But I can’t help this feeling or thought.

And so, I will be a more thoughtful consumer.  I will not overeat.  I will use my purchase power as a consumer to buy foods that come from an organic and local source.  I will think of my hungry friends around the world every time I enjoy a fulfilling meal.  And I will fight for an end to unnecessary hunger, especially in children, in Lesotho.  And hopefully one day, the concept of hunger for Tiisetso and others will be exactly what it should be…a fictional game.

Khotso,

Andrew

This blog entry was written by BLOOM Africa director, Andrew Steele

Back To Where The Heart Is

Six years ago I took a trip that influenced who I am today. I was fortunate to be one of 30 Wittenberg students to travel to Lesotho with Professor Rosenberg. The trip exposed me to another part of the world and to a country that I did not know existed before. Today, Lesotho feels like my second home.

It was easy to fall in love with Lesotho’s beauty and the friendly and welcome spirit of the Basotho (people of Lesotho.) The smiling faces of the children became a part of me. The work we did in orphanages, Habitat for Humanity locations, and an AIDS clinic opened my eyes.  Holding the hand of a young orphan infected with HIV gave me an understanding of the depth of the virus; of the immense effect it was having on the people of Lesotho. I saw the need- one in four Basotho are infected with HIV/AIDS and the result is over a 100,000 orphans in the small country- but I also felt the incredible potential of this beautiful country. The experience inspired a group of us to create BLOOM Africa.

Two weeks ago, after six long years away, I had the opportunity to return to Lesotho with my brother Andrew Steele. As we crossed the border during the darkness of the night into Lesotho, I rolled down my window and was immediately greeted by the distinct smell I remembered. Tears filled my eyes listening to the beautiful singing welcome of the school children.  I was overcome with goosebumps. I couldn’t believe I was finally back.

I can remember as a kid watching the Lion King and dreaming of a faraway place of Africa. This continent, that was once just a dream to visit, has now become a reality in my life. Now, I have visited twice, and we have a team of amazing volunteers around the world devoting their time to help with BLOOM Africa. In all, our return to the nation of Lesotho was surreal.

While there, I was continuously confronted with the phrase Kaofela rea tsoana....We Are All the Same. Through travel and meeting people from all different walks of life, the phrase encapsulated the truth I've learned. As humans we all share common hopes and dreams that binds us together. During our trip, we visited project sites, spoke with leaders in the community, shook the King’s hand, and met with local and international NGOs to learn and collaborate. There is great work still to done in Lesotho, but I am optimistic and re-energized that working with the Basotho and BLOOM Africa there is a brighter future ahead for the children of Lesotho.

“Maybe I’m a hopeless optimist.  Maybe I’m naïve.  Maybe I’m unrealistic.  Maybe my educational expertise isn’t sufficient to anticipate how much can and will go wrong.  Or maybe I just can’t bear the thought of failing the kids again.  It doesn’t matter.  I’m all in.  And for the long haul.”

-Dr. William Henk

Thank you for sharing in BLOOM Africa’s dream.


Peace,


William


This blog entry was written by William Thomas, BLOOM Africa Deputy Director.