Week 6: Pula Pula Pula (Rain Rain Rain)

In a little over three weeks I will move to a small village of roughly 600 people to teach in their primary school and I could not be more thrilled. Moshaneng will be my home for the next two years and I am sure many adventures await me there (Will I lovingly pat strangers like I know them? Will I be able to find my way home?). Due to the size of the village I will travel 20K (12.5miles) to Kanye to do my grocery shopping. My potential house has electricity and a stand pipe on the compound thus I will not have to go far for water. Outside of this I know very little about Moshaneng and what the next two years will look like, however, all of the current volunteers and staff say that your time here is what you make of it. With this being said, it does not seem to matter whether or not I have plumbing but instead how I spend my days, the people I interact with, and most importantly my attitude.

I am very passionate about individual empowerment and self-confidence and this week was a good lesson in practicing what I preach. We received the results for our first language test this week and my score was higher then I anticipated. Instead of congratulating myself I was determined that there was some discrepancy. My language teacher then assured me that had she given me a score based on my performance in class she would have given me the same score. That conversation was reassuring as well as a friendly reminder that perhaps I need to practice what I preach and have a little more confidence in my own abilities and myself.

Although a little more confidence would be a good idea, it is best not to take myself too seriously. Sometimes when I interact with groups of children they want to be my best friend other times they just look at me and laugh. Depending on the day this is hard for me to handle but then I remember that although I think I am a Setswana maven what I actually sound like is probably closer to, “HELLO, H o w a r e YOU.” So if I was a 7 year old native Setswana speaker I would laugh at myself too.

People may remember the delicious Magwinya recipe I shared a couple weeks back, well this week was quite Magwinya heavy and I told my host mom that I should eat less Magwinya. She proceeded to teach me the word for fat and I thought we reached an understanding. Until moments later I told her a friend would be dropping by after class and she said, “Great I’ll make Magwinya!” Needless to say I don’t think my Magwinya consumption will be decreasing until I am on my own and I am okay with that. Bring on the Magwinya!

Today was cloudy, windy, and 60 degrees, which is a rarity. The forecast called for rain, which did not come, however, it is much needed and fingers crossed it will come tomorrow.

Pula! Pula! Pula!

Fun Fact

The currency in Botswana is also called Pula and before a traditional wedding the women in the grooms family go to the bride-to-be’s house and say, “Re kopa metsi” “We are asking for water” Needles to say water and rain has a very high value here!

Mail has been taking about a month to arrive so from here on out please address all mail to:

Dawn Bangert

c/o Modisi Primary School

P.O. Box 177

Kanye, Botswana

And a shout out to all who have written me letters, I have loved everyone of them!

Week 5: Oh the People You Meet

After four weeks of training the 59 Bots 14 were sent all around the country for shadowing. This meant that 5am Sunday I was picked up by the Peace Corps van and taken to the bus rank (terminal) along with 35 other Peace Corps Trainees who all boarded a bus to Gaborone (Gabs). In Gabs my amazing host, Terri met me and I found the rus rank to be far less intimidating then I thought it would be. Ah, traveling by bus, no problem its affordable and convenient. I felt like a Botswana travel maven, until I realized I did not complete any aspect of this journey on my own, someone was holding my hand the entire trip (since I was traveling with Americans and not Batswana I do not mean this literally). Although I do not deserve the credit for a smooth trip I do feel prepared for my next bus endeavor. Flash to the return trip which ended with me peeling myself off the person sitting next to me since our combined leg sweat fused us together from the waist down, yep still feel like a Botswana bus maven.

Kanye is a little less then two hours outside of the capital and is a village of approximately 50,000. I was shadowing at a senior secondary school which includes form four and form five, roughly the equivalent of junior and senior year of high school in the States. Due to various life complications this meant that some of the students were as old as 25 and consequently a few years my senior. As a Peace Corps Life Skills volunteer I will be placed with a counter part who is in the guidance department and could be co-teaching classes on life skills ie goal setting, self-confidence, etc. However, as with all Peace Corps activities this all depends on my location, but this is the reality for my host.

At the school I was introduced during the all school assembly. This included all 1,800 students thus leading me to smile and I hoped look mature or more accurately foolish in front of all of the student body. I am not sure how well the whole mature” look worked for me since many people then continued to ask how old I was (still baby Bangert no matter where I go).  Student’s guesses ranged between 13 and 30. Mind you the students guessing my age were between 16 and 20 with a handful in their mid-twenties. I am going to chalk the 13 year-old guesses up to a language barrier and misunderstanding the question. Right? I may have a baby face but 13…

Terri’s counter part in the guidance department is a very progressive thinker and a genius at what he does. I was privileged enough to watch him have conversations with various individuals about extremely rough topics where I would have lost my cool and been ineffective. He was firm yet graceful in all of these conversations. Unfortunately problems of male chauvinism and sexual assault are not unique to the states and happen around the world. The conversations I was privy to in the guidance office in Kanye were all to familiar to me and resembled conversations I had on my college campus.

This week has reminded me of the power of positive people. Terri is an amazing woman with her fair share of struggles that she talks candidly about thus sharing her strength. It has been incredibly empowering to have an example of a woman who has over came hardship and continues to push herself. Also she makes a mean grilled cheese, which was all the more delicious because cheese is hard to come by.

Also keep an eye out for a video of me doing aerobics in sandals with socks, yep I am a classy lady!  Where might you find this video? Good question, since it was taken by a passerby I have no idea. However, I can tell you that for the extremely coordinated like myself an aerobics class is the perfect way to be humbled, have a good laugh, meet really cool Batswana ladies, and get a heart pounding workout. Next time I make it to a class I may even come prepared with gym shoes.

My Homestay

Week 4: Rhino Time and History Lesson

My Labor Day was spent with some of the only rhinos in Botswana, as well as a giraffe, a few Zebras, and a whole host of Impala. Khama Rhino Sanctuary protects most if not all of the rhinos left in Botswana. A Rhino’s tusk is very valuable in the eyes of poachers and thus the rhinos in Botswana have been hunted to near extinction. However, the remaining ones are being protected and were part of my very first “safari” experience. Finally my experiences match one of the stereotypes people have of my time in Africa and admittedly the day reminded me of the Lion King and I couldn’t help but keep my eye out for Timone and Pumba. A wart hog did run across our path and I have no doubt it was some relation of Pumba’s. The whole experience was a bit surreal and I am continuously in awe of the landscape, which I find breath taking.

Monday morning may have been devoid of animals but it was full of culture and a very knowledgeable man from the Serowe Museum. For 30 Pula (around 4 USD) I was able to get the inside scoop on Serowe, the current president of Botswana (Ian Khama), the British-Botswana relationship, and a whole host of other interesting tidbits. As a recent history grad, I was nerding out and loving every minute. My next step is to become best friends with this man so I can learn more. In the mean time since I think history is so important here are a few fun bits. This is all based on my notes from the Museum and I have not fact checked any of it so take it with a healthy dose of skepticism as all historical “facts” should be digested.

In 1895 a delegation from Botswana went to Britian to ask for protection. In 1885 Britian declared Botswana a protectorate. Clearly something does not add up here however, it appears that the British and Batswana had an overall positive relationship. The British were in Botswana to protect the country not to develop it. Then in 1966 the British peacefully left Botswana and only a few years later diamonds were discovered. One can only imagine how peaceful the evacuation of the British would have been if the diamonds were discovered a few years earlier. According to my host mom this signifies how good god is. I on the other hand think a handful of people were sitting on some important information biding their time… but that’s just speculation.  On another note I was able to see the author Bessie Head’s type writer and learn more about her. I recommend looking her up since she is one impressive lady.  Botswana may not conjure images of being a world player, however, in 1920 Botswana gave food aid to countries in eastern Europe who were experiencing famine, including Serbia and Poland. The tour guide was a fountain of knowledge and among some of my favorite bits of his wisdom included, “I don’t know why men make war, it always brings ugly things.” Although that is simplistic I find myself in agreement with him, perhaps that’s why I am in the Peace Corps.

I feel a little daunted by the use of possessives in Setswana but hopefully that will be abetted with time or I will simply denounce all of my possessions because I do not know how to say they are mine, at least in a timely fashion.

Personal space has a different meaning here and lends itself to some interesting situations. My host mom and a handful of her relatives were visiting the grave site of her parents so we all pilled into my host mom’s pick up.  I found myself in the backseat with her son-in-law, his three year old son, and my host mom’s sister. Although there were seats for all of us, with the three year old on his dads lap, we were definitely cozy. My host moms sister was on my right and would fluctuate from holding my hand and inadvertently( or perhaps lovingly) stroking/tickling the inside of my knee. Space was at a premium so it may have just been where her hand fell but I have my suspicions it was meant in a loving way, regardless it was quite difficult not to kick and laugh but instead smile back as she continued to cuddle me. My personal bubble is definitely getting smaller.

Week 3: Just Keep Laughing and Eat More Magwinya

I want to give an accurate portrayal of what I’m up to. The foolishness I’ve gotten myself into this week, the joys, the rough bits, and the rich culture but one post a week simply cannot capture the complexity and the nuance. In many ways my life is the same here as it is back in the states, I wear scarves and big earings and when I am so happy I don’t know how to contain my joy I have a dance party when no one is looking (Botswanaswanaswana). However, at the same time I can acutely feel how far away I am from my support networks and if this week taught me anything, its that no matter where I am I still like to talk about my feelings.

Most things I thought I knew last week have proven to be incorrect, but I now think that’s just how life is. Peace Corps is about expecting the unexpected and laughing along the way.

Sunday of last week was hard because we had another person ET (early terminate) and leave for the states. This shook me up and made me question my decision to be living in Botswana. So Monday I was going to get back on track and learn to cook dinawa (beans), cheers to more protein and less starch. However then I come home to B (the housekeeper/ my sister) being sick and my host mom and I taking her to the hospital. As I understood more, I realized she probably had the equivalent of the flu and that I could stop stressing over her like a mother hen. In the mean time my host mom is stressing over me and is concerned that I might be hungry and that I have homework, so she has her daughter pick me up from the hospital on their way into town, mind you have I have yet to meet this daughter and her family. This means that moments later I am being sheparded into the back seat of a car where I thought I would be kickin’ it with a three year old, but instead found myself on the lap of someone I had yet to meet. Did I mention greetings are really important in Batswana culture? Because they are. Luckily after arriving home and tumbling out of the vehicle, I formally met Sheila who is the nanny for the three year old I was expecting, and the rest of the family. Luckily Sheila is one of the most loving people I have ever met and I don’t think she is holding my lack of greetings against me.

The more time I spend here the more I realize that what I think know about Batswana culture is probably not true. What I am sharing are a fraction of the experiences I am having that are filtered through my world view and depend on my mood while I am writing. So what is Batswana culture? Good question. Hopefully in 27 months I might have some insight and if nothing else I can guarantee a slew of stories.

No matter what language you speak, laughter is a powerful tool. There is a noise/inflection that Batswana throw into conversation that cracks me up, so one night I tried my hand at working it into the conversation. My host mom and Sheila were surprised and delighted by my choice and needles to say we were laughing for hours.

To keep me centered I have started to meditate each morning with a handful of other volunteers and I am extremely grateful for this. It makes 9.5 hours of power points more bearable. Sometimes training seems quite long but when I actually think about it I am grateful to be receiving this training, it is encouraging to be in a room full of Peace Corps staff who want you to succeed.

All in all the week went well and despite the rocky beginning it ended on a high note as B, taught me how to make Magwinya, the long awaited fat cakes! I can safely say I am a fan. It is basically a doughnut with out the sugar.

Magwinya Recipe

(according to me watching B)

Flour 1 Kg

Sugar 6 Tbs

Salt 1Tbs

Backing Powder 1Tbs

Yeast ½ Tbs

Warm Water 2 Cups

Mix, Knead. Rise (1 hour), Deep Fry till golden brown (turning once)

Enjoy!