People Archives - Page 9 of 107 - Sonia Marsh

Getting Rid of the Evil Spirits With My Healer

February 19, 2016 by Sonia Marsh 8 Comments

Healer and Sonia — My village healer and me.

There’s a famous healer in my village in Lesotho, who can get rid of the evil spirits, and cure anything. People flock to him from all over Lesotho, where I’m serving as a Peace Corps volunteer as well as South Africa, to seek treatment, and cures for all kinds of ailments.

For weeks, I’ve been asking Mary, my ‘M’e, “host mother” to meet the healer and she kept telling me “He’s very busy.” It wasn’t until he wanted a solar battery, from my contact in Maseru, that I finally got my appointment.

I had no idea what to expect, but I was hoping he would predict my future. I wanted to hear something positive, about meeting the love of my life, and a fulfilling future job after the Peace Corps,

Mary and I walked along the red, dirt path to his tin-roofed house. He has nice leather furniture inside his one bedroom house. I sat down, and expected him to read my palm, or to sit opposite me.

Instead, he filled a plastic bottle with Coke, and told Mary in Sesotho, that he knows I wash my face every morning with a cloth. “Wow,” he knows I wash my face before I go for my 5:45 a.m. walk. I was already hooked. What else does he know about me? I thought.

He told Mary he had a plant for me to add to my water to get rid of the “negativity.” I had mentioned to Mary, that I wanted more positive thoughts and that I wanted to think about everything going well in my life.

“He knows,” she said.

I asked, “How much does he want?”

“20 Rand.”

That’s only $1.28.

“He wants to give you a special remedy to get rid of all the evil while you’re here.”

“Ask him why I always think of the negative rather than the positive.”

She told me that his “medicine” which I shall put in my water, will get rid of that forever.

I could not wait to see what happened.

Mary told me the healer gave her the plant, but that she had to dry it first. After that she used her stone mortar and pestle to make something that reminds me of “Herbes de Provence,” to put in my early morning water to sprinkle on my face.

The healer's mixture — The healer’s mixture

It’s been two weeks now since I’ve used it, and I have not met Prince Charming, but I have had a nice sight-seeing trip to Kobe caves and a home-made espresso with a British/French photographer.

(More on that trip in another post.)

Coffee in his car — An espresso in the back of Rene-Paul’s Jeep.

HIV/AIDS Orphans: Interview With Prince Harry’s Sentebale Staff

January 31, 2016 by Sonia Marsh 2 Comments

Sentebale guy and me — Sekoate from Sentebale, Prince Harry’s charity. I love his T–shirt.

There is a beautiful clinic in my village in Lesotho, Africa, funded by the U.S. Millenium Challenge Corporation.

As you may have read in a previous blog post, I visited it a few weeks ago, and discovered that once a month, Sentebale, the charity Prince Harry and Prince Seeiso of Lesotho started, runs a workshop for children and orphans with HIV/AIDS at the clinic. Sentebale means “Forget-me-not,” in Sesotho.

As I approach the clinic, I hear children singing in the main building. The door is open and I peek into the workshop room and notice two women talking to a large group of adults. One woman takes my hand and whisks me away from the room. I explain why I’m here. She then leads me to a white truck parked inside the property, where I find a man asleep in the front seat. His foot is bandaged and he says he cannot walk, but is willing to be interviewed from his car.

Sekoati is his name, and he tells me he is the program coordinator for Sentebale, responsible for the monitoring and evaluation of the children’s adherence to medication.

Sentebale partners with clinics around Lesotho and forms clubs for HIV/AIDS children aged 9-18. They offer several programs, including one specifically for the herd boys who attend a nighttime program, since they tend to the cattle and sheep during the day. (More on the life of the herd boys after I finish reading an interesting book written by a herd boy.)

The program Sekoati is responsible for is called the Mamohate program; the name given to the new children’s center in Thaba Bosiu, inaugurated by Prince Harry on November 26^th, 2015. This center provides emotional and psychological support to children affected by HIV/AIDS.

Once a month, clinics around Lesotho run these clubs to distribute free ARVs, (antiretrovirals) to the children. They make it a fun day of games and offer snacks and food. They also reimburse transportation for the orphans, as some have to walk 2-3 hours to reach the clinic.

“What are your main challenges?” I ask Sekoati.

“The record keeping of how children are taking their medication. It’s very challenging to monitor their CD4 count, which we do twice a year. The blood is sent to a local hospital, but the machine is often broken, and we don’t get the results back.”

He tells me that many clinics don’t understand the benefits of the clubs, so they don’t support them.

“What about the adults I saw in the workshop?” I ask.

“Those are the caregivers. They meet four times a year, and they don’t always give the necessary support to the child.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

He explains that many orphans have behavioral problems, and are violent, troubled kids. The caregivers don’t know how to handle the behavioral issues, and the children are stigmatized; caregivers often use scare tactics with the children.

I ask Sekoati whether they teach the children sex education and condom use. He said in general, “No,” as this is a cultural/religious issue, “but things are changing.”

I mention what I’ve heard from many Basotho young women, including one expert on sexual harassment in schools and universities. Many girls have sex without protection in exchange for money or gifts. I wonder how can we make a difference in reducing HIV/AIDS in Lesotho when there is extreme poverty, starvation, as well as religious and cultural issues about not using condoms.

Young women tell me that in some (many?) primary schools, 7^th grade girls will fail their exams if they refuse to have sex with their teachers. One woman I interviewed who is passionate about this topic, and is devoting her time and money to making a difference, told me that sexual harassment happens at universities and in some cases, if the young women talk about this, their teacher will flunk them, and they won’t be allowed to pursue their studies.

I am learning so much and want to help the orphans at my school. Please read next week’s post on what I hope to do in my community to help the orphans.

I Have No Privacy

January 20, 2016 by Sonia Marsh 20 Comments

Where I burn my trash, and silver door is my toilet — My latrine and where I burn my trash

When you live in a rural village in Lesotho, southern Africa, you soon realize that everyone knows your business, and that you have no privacy.

In the morning, I peek out my door to see if there are any bo-‘m’e, bo-ntate or bana (women, men or kids) sitting on Mary’s (my host mother) porch, chatting, singing or shouting, as that’s how most people communicate in my village. Mary’s radio is tuned in to her favorite religious station, and I have no idea how her visitors can hear one another speak. Many people stop by for a chit-chat, and sometimes I see a stranger, leaning against the bricks in her yard, scanning daily life in the neighborhood.

When I think the road is clear, I dash out with my pee bucket and make sure it’s on my left side when I pass Mary’s porch, as I don’t want Mary to see how full it is. I’m scared the village will gossip about how much I pee during the night, even though I dump bleach and dirty dishwater into my pee bucket to rinse it out.

Oh dear, a woman is walking towards me. Now I have to greet her. Greeting people is important to the Basotho culture; they are insulted if you don’t stop and ask them,

“How did you sleep last night?”

“Very well thank you, and you?”

“Oh, I slept harmoniously well (hamonate) thank you,”

“Thank you ‘M’e.”

All this conversation with my pee bucket in hand, trying to hide it while smiling, is something I don’t think I can get used to.

View to the right of my latrine and where I burn my trash

My latrine is 50 metres from my rondavel, and faces the main road. People know exactly when I enter, and when I exit my latrine. I have a lock on my latrine’s metal door which makes a hammering sound whenever I unlatch it. Even the horse turns his head to look at me when I use it. For some reason I haven’t seen any Basotho use their latrines in my village. Am I the only one who needs to pee? My ‘M’e even asked me one day if I had a (mathata) problem, because I visited my latrine twice in one morning.

When I walk around my village, I see kids run to the side of the road and pull down their pants and squat. I’ve even seen men, including my taxi driver, stop the car and pee on the side of the road.

People know everything about me in my village. Even my ‘M’e said, “I know you drink a lot of coffee.” How does she know? Perhaps from the wet coffee filters full of ground coffee that I throw in the trash, or the fact that I use my latrine. They also know I drink red wine, as they see the empty box when I burn my trash.

I hate burning my trash as I’m worried that I’ll start a brush fire, and I’m concerned about breathing the toxic fumes from burning plastic bags, containers and metal cans. I tear my grocery and bank receipts into tiny pieces before burning them. I know children, and sometimes adults go through my trash, as they collect items they can use.

When I received my package from the U.S., everything was wrapped in cardboard and beautiful packaging. The kids love to keep boxes, tissue paper, yoghurt containers, empty wine boxes, and create dollhouses, and make “pretend” beds and furniture out of anything they find in the trash.

When Karabelo, Mary’s eleven-year-old granddaughter, showed me where and how to burn my trash for the first time, she squatted next to the flames. With her bare hands, she removed objects that she wanted to keep. The tips of her toes were less than an inch from the flames, but this did not bother her.

People want to come inside my rondavel. I have a laptop, books, an exercise ball and a nice duvet cover with pillows. My host mother warned me not to let anyone inside, except for her, and her granddaughter, because once I allow one person inside, the whole village will stop by to “see” what I have in my room.

I guess I have to redefine privacy, and realize that it will be non-existent for the next two years I’m serving as a Peace Corps volunteer in Lesotho.

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Maliba: Christmas At The Best Resort in Lesotho, Africa

December 26, 2015 by Sonia Marsh 17 Comments

The brilliant Chef at Maliba Lodge, Nico Vorster

This Christmas, I decided to give myself a gift of love, luxury and to be completely responsible for my own happiness.

I admit, I felt sorry for myself, especially without a home to go back to, and I missed my three sons during the holidays. I’ve been on the go all year, starting with my divorce after a 28-year-marriage, studying for the TESOL certificate in London, volunteering in Spain, Thailand and a school in California, applying for the Peace Corps and then moving to Lesotho, Africa, in October 2015, I can say this has truly been the “Gutsiest” year of my life.

2015 is Chapter One of my new life, and I look forward to making the next two years of my Peace Corps life meaningful. I want to learn about the Basotho culture, to speak Sesotho and to start working on my secondary project which I want to benefit the people in my rural village. I’m drawn towards helping girls and women start a business that can offer them an income, so let me know if you have any suggestions. I have some ideas, but I’m curious what you think. It has to be sustainable.

This Christmas, I wanted to pamper myself, after ten weeks of intense Peace Corps training, and living without electricity and running water.

Why Maliba Lodge?

Because it is located in the beautiful mountains of northern Lesotho, and I needed to relax and get showers, baths, and meat and fish, which I haven’t had in my rural village since I don’t have a fridge.

So I ordered a private taxi to take me there, which happened to be a joke, because private, means 4 of us inside the taxi, 4 in the truck bed, and then stopping to pick up a dead pig to deliver at the next village.

Pig loaded onto my "Private" taxi which I paid for. — Pig loaded onto my “Private” taxi which I paid for.

I finally got my private taxi in Maseru, and the drive took three hours. We listened to Whitney Houston, and Mariah Carey, all the way to Maliba, and I think Whitney sang “I Will Always Love You” fifteen times.

Maliba is like being on another planet. My room is so beautiful, that I keep taking photos from every angle, saying this is how I want my shower to look when I move back to the U.S. Who needs a shower door when the open concept works?

Can I get a thatched roof in the U.S.? This is how I shall get an architect to design my bedroom and I love these doors made of solid wood, and the light coming in from the patio. This room could be my entire house, and I’d be so happy when I move back, to design it just like this. I fall in love with the room and forget how expensive it would be to have a custom designed small home.

Video of my morning at Maliba. So quiet and peaceful.

When I walk outside the main lodge overlooking the mountains, I find a group from Australia, South Africa and Europe. They are all related and I ask them if I can join them as I’m alone. They say “Yes,” and I end up looking at Eland through binoculars on the mountain slopes.

The food is outstanding.

Breakfast is a buffet with cheese, smoked salmon, yoghurt, cereals, flaky pastries, nuts, meats, bread and butter.

Then a cooked breakfast of your choice.

Lunch consists of salads, gourmet burgers, and a dessert.

Dinner is filet mignon, rack of lamb, fish with asparagus, and tarte tatin, all beautifully prepared and presented.

I interviewed the chef, Nico Vorster, who is only 28, the age of my oldest son.

He is South African, from Cape Town, and at such a young age, he’s worked in Orlando, for Disneyworld, at the Animal Kingdom Lodge. He also worked on Disney cruise ships as a chef, and was hired by the Ruperts in South Africa, (one of the wealthiest South African families.) Nico was also a chef at Terra del Capo, and a private chef for two wealthy South African families.

Nico has been the chef at Maliba lodge for 5 months, and I asked him if he is bored being isolated in the mountains of northern Lesotho. He says, he loves nature and, “You must adapt to your location.” He also loves hiking with friends, and eating lunch at the top of the mountain. He has many creative ideas for his restaurant and says it’s important to “Bring the warmth into the place from the outside.”

I am now back at my rural village and shall blog about my new home next weekend. Please come back to see photos of where I live, and how I’ve started decorating my rondavel.

Swearing in Ceremony with the U.S. Ambassador of Lesotho

December 18, 2015 by Sonia Marsh 9 Comments

I was sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer, by the U.S. Ambassador of Lesotho, Matthew Harrington, on December 16^th, 2015.

Our pre-service training lasted ten weeks, and I found it far more intense, and stressful, than I had anticipated.

Our schedules were jam-packed with workshops on all sorts of topics related to health, security, culture, and learning Sesotho, the language of Lesotho.

My final two weeks flew by with practice teaching grades 4 and 5, at a Catholic school, as well as our final language test, setting up our banking with Peace Corps ATM cards, shopping for pots, pans, mops, buckets, and all the necessities for moving to our new sites. Peace Corps vans dropped all 36 of us trainees off at a mall, and gave us two hours to shop and eat lunch. All of us ended up in the same store, looking for the same items.

What a hectic experience, especially as the mall had “no water,” so the restrooms were closed, and I could not get a coffee to perk me up, so my lack of caffeine migraine set in. We did not get home until dark, and I ended up packing with candlelight as my solar lights quit working.

The following morning was swearing in, and all the women in our group wore traditional Seshoeshoe dresses.

Bo-M'e dancing and singing — Bo-M’e dancing and singing

We were driven to the U.S. Ambassador’s house in our Peace Corps vans, while our host mothers, (Bo-‘M’e), and language teachers, boarded a private chartered bus. They wore their best dresses and the singing, dancing and whistling sounds were loud and festive already at 7:30 a.m.

We entered the tall black gate with security guards at the Ambassador’s house, and white tents offered shade during the ceremony, and lunch. The American flag, and the red, white and blue draped chairs, created an official setting.

Local Lesotho TV crew was there to film the Ambassador, as well as our Peace Corps Country Director, Wendy Van Damme, and the Honorary Deputy Minister, Thabang Kholumo.

The ceremony lasted two hours, and our host mothers danced and sang for us between speeches. I was so proud of one of our PCVs, Katie DuBose, who made a speech in Sesotho. She mastered the language during our ten-week course, and if only I could speak Sesotho, half as well as her, I would be able to communicate well with the Basotho.

Ambassador Harrington did the swearing-in, and we each received our official Peace Corps certificate.

A catered buffet was offered to all, and it’s amusing to see how much we PCVs appreciate a real meal, with meat and fish, after eating eggs, lentils, peanut butter and bread for weeks.

After lunch, the Ambassador allowed us to swim in his pool. I decided to chat with Wendy Van Damme, in the Ambassador’s back yard.

It was a special day for all of us, and now I’m as happy as can be at my new site where I shall be teaching English for the next two years as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

I shall post about my new rondavel (round) house and how I have made it cosy in my next blog post.