I knew all along that this trip to Lesotho would be different from the first. My expectations were certainly different; namely, I had an idea of what to expect. The workload, the living space, the weather, and many of the people are now known quantities. (In case you’re wondering the items above were, respectively, heavy, simple and comfortable, dry and warm with occasional thunderstorms, and some of the kindest people I have ever met.) I was, however, slightly surprised at how amazing it felt to see the completed Ntja-Peli Hall with the sun rising behind it on my first morning there.
Ntja-Peli translates as “two dogs”. As I understand it, the implication is the power of two: the ability of two dogs, standing back-to-back, to take on the world. The hall was completed about two years ago through the joint effort of volunteers with the Lake Union Crew Outreach Foundation and students and staff of Holy Names High School – Bela-Bela Lesotho. I guess that makes me one of the dogs.
The projects this year aren’t quite as grand as a large hall, but may end up being more appreciated, or appreciated by more people. Holy Names High School is situated next to a ravine with a dramatic ridge behind. This makes for beautiful sunrise photos of Ntja-Peli, and for long treks downstream to find a safe crossing when the ravine washes out. The main project this year is construction of a bridge across the ravine.
As a construction novice, building a hall made sense. Ever since this project was announced I have been curious about how a concrete bridge would be built. I did not stay long enough to see the completed bridge, but I saw enough to understand the rest of the process. However, I do not think I could describe it adequately to make it clear to the average reader. Suffice it to say the forms that were constructed for pouring the bridge were substantial enough that most of the local people who walked by assumed that this was the actual bridge. Some of them were excited by the orange and silver colored scaffolding. They seemed to like the colors. I hope they think the finished concrete is at least as nice.
After the previous project Lake Union Crew Outreach Foundation committed to funding an HIV/AIDS center on campus. In her eight or nine months in Lesotho my friend, Martha, managed to test 95% of the students at the high school. She found less than five percent of the students are infected which is astounding in a country where 25-30% of the population is infected. The goal of the center is to provide testing, counseling, and education. Even without having many people to assist with clinic appointments or medication management, the center is capable of creating positive change through education, empowering the students to make good choices, and setting an example within the community at large. One of the other construction projects is the erection of a fence around campus to create a safe environment for the students, especially in light of storage of medications at the center.
The bridge may be the big project, but the fence is going to take the longest, and provide the most opportunities for providing first aid. It is galvanized steel with square posts and spear-shaped pieces that look like extra-long pickets. I saw this type of fencing in a few other places in Lesotho, and around many of the homes in Ficksburg, South Africa (just across the border). It seems durable, an effective deterrent, and difficult to take apart. So far, injuries around fence construction have occurred once due to falling on the spears (luckily, just a cut hand, and one of the volunteers that week was an emergency room doctor who travels with a suture kit), but mostly due to bashing knuckles while tightening the bolts. This job would take forever without ratcheting wrenches, but ratcheting wrenches mean cranking away at nuts that are designed to have half break off once they are tightened. Combine this with swinging pick axes to dig the postholes around tree roots and there are ample opportunities for bruising and bleeding. Sometimes it feels good to have a few battle scars to wear as badges in recognition of hard work.
Some of the other, smaller, projects included doubling the size of the chicken coop, adding moveable partitions to Ntja-Peli Hall, and creating a new room in the library building for a computer lab (to be occupied by donated computers). The woman who organizes these projects always has a few smaller tasks going on. I’m not sure if this is her version of over-achieving, or if she intentionally creates different work areas to put people in groups that will make each person more effective and happy. The concept behind these projects is to work in groups that combine the resources of different communities. We bring the money we’ve fundraised and volunteers who want to work hard for a week or two or three; we are met by people who want to learn some skills and find out about us and create something for their community. The past three years, with two trips to Bela-Bela and another to Ancon, Peru, has taught me so much. It has been an interesting journey. I’ve met a teenage boy who has an enchanting smile and a soul that seems to match mine. I’ve seen the miracle that happens when a person with very little feels power in the knowledge that someone somewhere else in the world cares about him. I’ve seen a new community formed from three very different ones (from the US, Lesotho, and Peru), and I’ve seen that new community mourn for a lost friend.
This brings me back to the things that were different about this trip. I knew he wouldn’t be there, and I knew that I would talk to people there about him, but it was still so very sad sometimes to not have Emmanuel on campus this time. He was the Assistant Principal at Holy Names High School, the happiest person I have ever met, and one of seven people who travelled from Lesotho to Peru to be part of last year’s project. And he died in a traffic accident last June. The new bridge has been named after him which is symbolic, to me, of the impact he had in bringing people together.
I felt Emmanuel’s absence in a number of ways. The most obvious was in the lack of his utterly honest expression of joy. I assume that all the other, smaller, reminders of the hole left by him were related to that missing joy. In general, Basotho are much more capable of expressing joy than any American I’ve met, and we did have quite a few sessions of alternately giggling and belly-laughing. But Emmanuel’s joy was permeating; it was expressed through all the people around him. He was joyful in greeting people each morning. He was joyful in the manual labor we all did together. He was joyful in running errands, and translating, and eating sweet buns for morning snack. He was thoughtful and took care of any number of tasks that most people would not have noticed. One of the Basotho traditions around death is taking the body to its usual places: home, work, etc., and reassuring the deceased that all of his tasks would be managed. It is a way of acknowledging the responsibilities of the community and allowing the spirit to leave without concern.
This trip I learned something different. Last time, thanks to Emmanuel, I learned what happiness look like. This time I learned my own responsibility to express and share happiness. Emmanuel, I promise to be joyful; I promise to always let my friends see my joy at knowing them; I promise to help others in finding their joy.
Pronunciation guide:
Ntja-Peli = uhnt-ja pay-dee
Lesotho = le-soo-too
Bela-Bela = bee-lah bee-lah
Basotho = bah-soo-too (the people or customs of Lesotho)
For more information: http://lucoutreachfoundation.org/
The New Year has come and my mind is full of ideas on New Year’s resolutions and goals for 2011. There’s always the temptation to have those typical New Year’s resolutions that are bound to fail. For example, I could promise to keep up on having my house clean and dishes done every night. Or, I could resolute to sleep more, eat better, and exercise more. But what mom has time to make those kinds of promises? Not this one, for sure!
