Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Extended Thanksgiving Weekend
"Papa Keno" our fledgling papaya tree. |
Cutting down our Christmas Tree. |
Stuffed roasted chickens with pumpkin. |
Americans gathered from far and wide for our traditional Thanksgiving dinner. (From left to right: Anis from Mochudi, Dawn from Moshaneng, Peggy from Ghanzi, and Mara, our friend in Ramotswa) |
6:30am: the beginning of the World AIDS Day festivities. |
Meeting His Excellency the President Sir Seretse Khama Ian Khama at the DHMT tent at World AIDS Day |
Mma Lesego with us, sporting the scandalous t-shirts gifted to us by "the condom coordinator". |
Monday, November 25, 2013
Eyes Wide Open
We are closing in on the half-way mark of our “community
assessment period”, as the Peace Corps calls it. We’ve met with community
stakeholders, been counseled by our Kgosi (chief) and her subordinates,
received insight and advice from the District AIDS Coordinator, the police, local
development organizations, the National AIDS Coordinating Agency, the Village
Development Committees, local scholars of the Botswana- Harvard partnership, social
workers and health practitioners…all to help us gain an overview of the needs
and current practices in our new community- laying the groundwork for future
projects.
The issues are complex- and they bring up a staggering
plethora of pieces of advice from my past- from working in Old Naledi, to the
halls of KU, and K-State, and the visiting scholars from the African Issues
Symposium. What is one thing I have learned about development work so far? Development
work, missions, relief work, service, social work, volunteerism, the non-profit
sector, charity, philanthropy, however you want to frame it- it’s broken- “boggen”-
as my nephew, would have described it.
I think I’ve grown up with an image of reality that is
pretty out of whack. Still, it was the image floating in my head, popping up in
my stereotypes. My short lifetime of experience has only begun its journey of
undoing.
This is NOT reality: The world is a funny dichotomy. It is a
market-driven place in which people go to school, work, get promoted, improve
their standard of living, compete, succeed- all for the self. But, behold,
there is a beautiful counter-segment of people doing self-less work. The missionaries,
Mother Theresas, the Greg Mortensons, these types have rejected the system of
achievement for the sake of the self and have chosen to embark on a life that
is about others…and so much more fulfilling.
No, this is NOT reality. In truth, development is broken. We
like projects that feel good. Everyone wants to build the water pump (Damberger,
2011), but nobody wants to do the maintenance, to invest the time, to learn
what others have done, to avoid redundancy. It looks good to give something
that nobody has; it also looks like privilege. We have something to give to you,
poor souls. Look at our choices, our life, as an example- never mind that
our wealth and your poverty might be two sides of the same coin. Am I benefiting
from a system that exploits you? And then, am I stepping in, too late, to offer
a hand that appears so benevolent. We have a system that perpetuates patterns
of inequality. It is a system that makes assumptions about who is endowed with
the rights to lead, to decide who benefits from foreign investment, etc. Living
a selfless life IS fulfilling, it feels good, but it often benefits the self
more than others, and the ramifications of that work can be far-reaching and
dangerous.
It has been a short time, but a long journey from being a
kid in Botswana, recognizing that most missionaries didn’t do what I thought
they did. Then slowly realizing that I was usually in the dark with my local
community, communication is rarely frank, so I often missed what was actually
going on. It is hard for an outsider to say that something is having such and
such an impact or not, or even to have a clue about what is happening and
whether it is actually happening. Things were not what they seemed. Recipients
say things that donors want to hear. We have been molded by a long system of
learning to “market” development, of learning how to appeal to heartstrings, by
a system of development that is self-perpetuating, that doesn’t work- that
exploits inequalities and plunges them deeper. Good scholars, found much later
in life, revealed a system embedded deeply in history that makes this
brokenness difficult to escape. Is sustainability and development possible when
it fits into, and sometimes reproduces, inequality? The funny thing is that
this realization about development work is nothing new. I am no expert, but
followers of Christ all know that the world is broken. That is why we need to
be rescued. If the world is broken, why should it surprise me that development
work is also broken?
My wise sister is an evaluator for this type of work, and
she is inspirational to me because she looks deeper, she analyzes how best to
serve others without damaging them in the process, how to admit when we are
wrong and need to revise. She is a reminder that WE do not always know what is
best, but that we can be responsible by engaging with others, by remaining
dependent on others who serve and are being served, by communicating with
experts, by taking their warnings seriously and by implementing their best
strategies- by doing our research. Not too long ago, she and I were randomly
chatting about Robert Lupton’s (2012) Hippocratic oath of sorts for development
work; a call to engage in reciprocal, non-hierarchical work, where above all we
“do no harm.” And I might add to that…work that builds the capacity of others,
and is not dependent on us alone. YES! Please. Of course, this is what we want
to do, but the scary thing is: how do we know how to do it, or how do we know when
our work is causing unforeseen harm?
We are the most certain of our uncertainty. Fortunately for
us, we live under a promise and a command: the promise of an omniscient Holy
Spirit to guide our actions and to guide our inquisition as we learn about this
work and take this life-long study to heart; and the command to love with the
assurance that doing so “does no harm (Romans 13:10).”
And so it is, that our eyes are wide open as we jump into
this new part of life. We attempt to take this next step in humility with every
effort to learn from those around us and be led by God, and not our own wisdom.
So, if you made it to the end of this long and tiresome
post, please pray for God’s niche, that we will fit in with projects that are
not about us, and that bring Him glory.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
People Post
A man standing proudly next to the home-brewed bujalwa.
We call this the updated, Botswana version of the couple on the prairie.
This is the only chore he ever did, but this is the traditional broom sweeping the dirt in the yard.
Sean
Cooking for the Independence Celebration.
She cracks me up.
A singing group for the celebration.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Mr. What?
The BDF (Botswana Defense Force) tent at the Ramotswa health fair. |
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
More Mops and Stuff
Monday, November 4, 2013
Mops and Stuff
In the couple of days before Heidi's arrival with pots and pans, we experimented with hard boiling eggs in an old coffee tin. |
Fresh baked bread on the first day of our own kitchen. |
Relaxing. |
Saturday, November 2, 2013
A Place to Call Home
Owen's (Kabelo's) beard- the subject of great controversy in Ramotswa. Let your voice be heard in the comments. Every vote counts! |
We have a home! It is a small (though larger than the Little
House on the Pierrie) house, nestled in the northeast corner of the beautiful,
hilly town of Ramotswa, a stone’s throw from South Africa. The people here are
so closely knit with their kinsman across the border, that they have been known
to jump the fence on occasion to drink bojalwa (traditional beer) with their
brothers of identical ethnicity and contrasting nationality.
A couple of smart and inquisitive boys (Nick and Tate) have
asked some thoughtful questions about our new home. The answers are posted
below.
1. Are there soccer, basketball, or tennis leagues there?
Totally! Soccer is the favorite sport of Botswana, home of
the national soccer team called the Zebras. There is a youth group in town that
plays soccer and teaches about good health practices at each of the schools.
The DHMT (Becky’s work) also sponsors an organization for the disabled that has
its own basketball team. Owen is excited about that!
2. Have you seen any giraffes or elephants?
Not yet. Ramotswa is mostly full of goats, chickens, cows,
warthogs, and occasionally baboons. We keep the doors and windows open in our
house to let in the breeze during the coolest part of the morning. This
morning, a rooster wandered into our kitchen by mistake!
3. Did you get to keep some diamonds?
Sadly no. We feel like the diamonds are serving a good
purpose though because they help to pay for health care in this country, which
is working hard to prevent and treat HIV/AIDS and other devastating diseases.
4. Do you have skateboards and bicycles to play with?
We do not have any skateboards because our road is very
bumpy and far from the tarred road (asphalt or cement). We DO have bicycles!
Mountain bikes were an early Christmas gift and will help us get to work faster
and carry all of our gear and groceries.
5. Do you like climbing trees in Africa?
We do love to climb trees! Most of our trees are acacia
trees, a special, drought-resistant tree that is covered in thorns. We don’t
climb those, but Owen plans to collect the branches for a fire pit, so that we
can cook dinner under the stars. Instead, we like to climb the rocks and hills
around Ramotswa. We live close to the cattle pastures (called cattle posts and
lands “masemu” here in Botswana), so we like to go for walks out there in the
evenings. There is always a beautiful sunset. More pictures to come shortly...
Freshly baked tortillas- We're home. |
Saturday, October 12, 2013
The Small Things
Reflecting on the last two months of training, and anxiously
preparing my speech for our official swearing in ceremony on Tuesday, a few
things occurred to me. The first, is that this has been one of the most trying
seasons of my life, and the second is that a few small things make a huge
difference…
1. Orange bags. 5kg of oranges come packaged in mesh bags
that make perfect loofas- something that my desert-abused feet desperately need
in order to avoid turning into rhino elbows.
2. Candlelit baths. I sit cross-legged in a bowl and splash water up the front of me to bathe. As a result, my back got cleaned only once last month. The upside: everything seems cleaner by candlelight.
3. Loincloths and polo shirts. Yes. I have seen this style
combination. It trumps Katie and Melissa’s puff painted sweat suits any day,
and reminds us to laugh.
4. The rock plate. Botswana is a master destroyer of shoes,
so my feet get a second mention on this list. When Manhattan Running Company
asked me on what type of terrain I would run, I answered “broken beer bottles,
rocks, old rebar, and man-eating thorns.” After two months of sunrise running
to beat the heat- I still have great shoes and even greater running buddies.
Thanks Jojo, Erika, and Dawn.
5. Papaya lunch. The ultimate food of convenience- all you
need is a spoon.
6. The sunsets. No matter how frustrating, hot, or miserable the day feels, spectacular sunsets are pretty much a guarantee at the end of the day.
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