It has been a momentous week with lots of events. As some of you may have already heard from Alison and Jason, they are pregnant! Needless to say they, as well as we, are thrilled. Alison is due in February. All is well with the initial nurse midwife check-up, the ultrasound is normal and the heart beat is strong. They have decided to have the gender of the child remain a surprise until the delivery. Alison has been experiencing a fair amount of morning sickness, but as she is nearing the end of the first trimester, hopefully that will lessen soon. Jason says he has not experienced any weight gain or sympathetic labor pains as yet, but is going to be a very proud Dad. It is definitely hard to believe that we will be grandparents. I am too young to be this old!
The other big news is son-in-law-to-be Joey has landed a job as a political consultant for Carmel Valley an area near Carmel that wishes to incorporate as a separate town. The local town fathers (and mothers) will utilize his campaign advice before the election in November. There looks to be a permanent position with a political consulting firm in San Francisco in the offing after the election. Great kudos to Joey for his persistence in being able to land a position exactly in his field of interest in the economically devastated State of California.
BACK FROM THE HOLIDAYS
This week began with a two day holiday, President’s Day, making it a four day weekend. Everyone returned to work on Wednesday and the usual Wednesday morning prayer service was followed by an informational session for the 25 staff members at the Rural Administration Center. But how many of you had an office meeting this week with an informational session demonstrating the use of the male and female condom?
The Batswana are a very gentle, somewhat shy people by nature (think Quakers with musical ability and a great sense of humor). Their general demeanor has also been shaped by a long period of British protectorate rule, so openness about personal issues and sexuality in particular, has been quite limited. When the scourge of AIDS hit though, drastic measures became necessary, including frank discussions and education about HIV transmission. The government has mandated presentations about sexual behavior and AIDS protection measures at public meetings and in the workplace. Although there was still significant embarrassment and averted glances on Wednesday, the presenters did a great job. It sure is a wake-up call returning to work to be greeted with a condom demonstration at 7:45 in the morning.
DIPOLITIKI (Politics)
Speaking of the President and politics, 2009 is an election year here in BW. A little political background may be helpful in understanding the rest of this post. Since independence in 1966, there have been four presidents in BW, all from the same political party. The Botswana Democratic Party or BDP is the primary political group of the tribe from the Northern half of BW. The first President, Sir Sirhetse Khama, is the grand old man of BW, revered as the founding father and something of a national hero. Educated in England, he married an English Caucasian woman, which was absolutely unheard of in the 1960’s. Nonetheless, he and his wife became quite popular and honored. He was followed as President by Quette Masire, Festus Mogae and the current president Khama Ian Khama, son of Sir Sirhetse. Although not without his supporters who may in fact carry him to re-election, the current President Khama is seen as something of a shadow of his father, has only a fair approval rating and by report was a poor student in school. (Does this sound vaguely familiar?) The opposition, the Botswana National Front (BNF), has represented the tribes in the Southern half of the country, but has never posed a serious threat to the BDP. There are several other smaller parties, the Botswana People’s Party (BPP) and the Botswana Congress Party (the BCP)
Like all of his predecessors, the BW president in Setswana is called TAUTONA (translated the Big Lion). I suppose this is not as unusual as it might sound since we refer to our president as the Big Cat or the Top Dog. Occasionally, depending on the particular president, a better name would be Large Ass, even if he is not a Democrat.
In any case, I thought that having one party in power for almost 50 years would eventually lead to trouble, and I decided to form my own new political party. I know, I know, I have only been in BW for less than four months and it is strictly against Peace Corps policy to get involved with in-country politics. However it seemed so appealing, and both of the people that I talked to about the idea agreed with me.
Working diligently, I formed the Botswana Liberation Trust which readily became known as the BLT. Under funded and having a one-man staff, it has been slow going. The man in the street cannot understand English, therefore my campaign speeches are met with blank stares and small turnouts. Fortunately BW is not the same as America. Here, one can stand on a box in the middle of a public square ranting words that nobody understands without being hauled away for a psychiatric evaluation.
President Khama is far ahead in all of the straw polls which resulted in the recent story from the Daily News buried on page 32 “TAUTONA eats BLT for lunch”.
I hired a Brooklyn campaign manager off the Internet to come up with a party slogan, but the best he could do was “The BLT promises a deli on every corner and hold the mayo.” Not much traction from the Africans.
I thought then perhaps I needed a more dignified name to match TAUTONA. Having eliminated The Big Lebowski, The Whopper and The Whole Enchilada, I thought that something using RUFUS would catch on. Anyone who is new to this blog and does not know the storied history of the term RUFUS, should pause reading this entry and return to the post of May 30th for further information. I finally settled on
KGOSI RUFUS KALASUS.
The preliminary elections occurred last week without the come-from-behind victory I had hoped for. As a matter of fact, the BLT garnered only 0.0000001% of the total, or in raw figures, just two votes. This tells me several things: First, in addition to my vote, my Mother’s Botswana citizenship came through in time for her to cast her ballot.
Secondly, somewhat as expected, Maureen did not vote for me. She had been down on the idea of my taking office for some time. I think it began when that Daily News reporter asked her if she would like being the TAUTON-ETTE. She wasn’t quite sure of the meaning in Setswana, but I was able to speculate that it either meant
“The First Lioness” or “The Big Lion’s Temporary Wife.” Neither of the titles did much for her. It is somewhat embarrassing though, since she actually voted for the dark horse fourth party candidate, a deaf mute dwarf.
Grand-Kgosi to be
[this means in Setswana that I will have a bana ba bana “child of my child”]
Hmm…… this Setswana brings to mind a memorable lyric from “The Name Game” a classic example of Yankee intelligence and deep thinking---
“Bana bana bo bana, bonana fana fo fana, fee fie mo mana… bana.” The wisdom of this song is matched only by the truly inspirational and profoundly moving messages conveyed in lyrics "There she goes just a walkin’ down the street, snapping her fingers and shuffling her feet, singin’ Doo wah diddy diddy dum diddy doo" and
"Who put the bop in the bop she bop? Who put the Ram in the Ramalama ding dong?"
It just makes you swell with pride to be an American.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
There’s No Place like Home
First you follow the yellow brick road…... Well it’s not really yellow or brick. It is rather brick red and mostly dirt because of the road construction. So click on the movie below to see a short video of the neighborhood.
Toto, I don't think we are in Kansas any more. So click your ruby slippers and then on the second video which will give you the nickel tour of the Doran residence
Toto, I don't think we are in Kansas any more. So click your ruby slippers and then on the second video which will give you the nickel tour of the Doran residence
Saturday, July 18, 2009
We had a very interesting week with a site visit to CampHill, a center for the education and support of the physically and mentally handicapped located 30” drive South of us. The Director is a Brit and personally showed us around. It includes three separate schools for various ages and 7 sheltered workshop projects including pottery making, weaving, raising plants for sale, an orchard, candle making, organic agriculture and catering. It is a wonderfully run and somewhat unique program (at least for BW). The CampHill program is worldwide, having started in Scotland, and has several facilities in the US.
Mma Ooke, my DAC counterpart had several family illnesses and had to be off for the last part of the week, so the office was busy with just Nthami, Duncan and I. We are making progress in planning for a “Street Bash” (i.e. street fair) in September with the theme of trying to break the chain of Multiple Concurrent Sexual Partnerships (so-called MCP). This is one of the National messages to continue the fight against HIV this year, along with decreasing the frequency of teenage pregnancy, involving more men in treatment and stopping Mother to Child transmission of HIV during pregnancy, delivery and breast-feeding.
It’s a four day holiday weekend here for President’s Day with Monday and Tuesday off. Our neighborhood feels very quiet as many have returned to their home villages to visit family. Yesterday we did our usual Saturday ritual of laundry and house cleaning. I also decided to plant some of the seeds I brought into small containers, so that once they sprout, I can transplant. I was going to plant in the back yard, but the more I think about it, perhaps a container garden might be easier to shade from the hottest of the sun, and keep the critters from chomping on any vegetables. By the way, does anyone know if chickens, if allowed, will eat garden vegetables? I need some compost for enriching the dirt, so what better way to spend the first day of a holiday weekend than collecting donkey dung. Lack of fertilizer will not be the limiting factor in my garden.
This morning we attended the kereke roma or Catholic Church 10 AM service. In format it is essentially the same as in America but it took two hours to complete. We made the acquaintance of the Pastor, Stephen as he introduced himself, from Lesotho (the small country totally enclosed by South Africa) and complimented him on how he engaged the group (about 300 in the school meeting hall). He spoke for 25 minutes 97% in Setswana and would crescendo in pitch then break out in a broad grin as the congregation laughed at something he said. He did insert a few English phrases that I caught such as "miracles" and how " a big house was something that everyone wanted", but most of the words were lost on us. Before the dismissal there was a lengthy appeal for donations (I guess churches everywhere all have the same financial issues).
The music, as has been the case at almost every event in BW, was amazing. Everyone was singing, on key and most of it was in two-part harmony, one part sung by the women and another by the men---all without a director or any written music. There was one accompanying instrument, a drum which someone brought, with some metallic pieces that gave it a tambourine sound. Some swaying and lots of rhythm, but only an occasional high pitch shrill warbling tongue yell that it seems only African women can do justice to.
Speaking of home, I thought it was about time to post a video of our house. I have tried twice but keep running into a VERY slow internet connection. I will have to try again another day
Kgosi
Mma Ooke, my DAC counterpart had several family illnesses and had to be off for the last part of the week, so the office was busy with just Nthami, Duncan and I. We are making progress in planning for a “Street Bash” (i.e. street fair) in September with the theme of trying to break the chain of Multiple Concurrent Sexual Partnerships (so-called MCP). This is one of the National messages to continue the fight against HIV this year, along with decreasing the frequency of teenage pregnancy, involving more men in treatment and stopping Mother to Child transmission of HIV during pregnancy, delivery and breast-feeding.
It’s a four day holiday weekend here for President’s Day with Monday and Tuesday off. Our neighborhood feels very quiet as many have returned to their home villages to visit family. Yesterday we did our usual Saturday ritual of laundry and house cleaning. I also decided to plant some of the seeds I brought into small containers, so that once they sprout, I can transplant. I was going to plant in the back yard, but the more I think about it, perhaps a container garden might be easier to shade from the hottest of the sun, and keep the critters from chomping on any vegetables. By the way, does anyone know if chickens, if allowed, will eat garden vegetables? I need some compost for enriching the dirt, so what better way to spend the first day of a holiday weekend than collecting donkey dung. Lack of fertilizer will not be the limiting factor in my garden.
This morning we attended the kereke roma or Catholic Church 10 AM service. In format it is essentially the same as in America but it took two hours to complete. We made the acquaintance of the Pastor, Stephen as he introduced himself, from Lesotho (the small country totally enclosed by South Africa) and complimented him on how he engaged the group (about 300 in the school meeting hall). He spoke for 25 minutes 97% in Setswana and would crescendo in pitch then break out in a broad grin as the congregation laughed at something he said. He did insert a few English phrases that I caught such as "miracles" and how " a big house was something that everyone wanted", but most of the words were lost on us. Before the dismissal there was a lengthy appeal for donations (I guess churches everywhere all have the same financial issues).
The music, as has been the case at almost every event in BW, was amazing. Everyone was singing, on key and most of it was in two-part harmony, one part sung by the women and another by the men---all without a director or any written music. There was one accompanying instrument, a drum which someone brought, with some metallic pieces that gave it a tambourine sound. Some swaying and lots of rhythm, but only an occasional high pitch shrill warbling tongue yell that it seems only African women can do justice to.
Speaking of home, I thought it was about time to post a video of our house. I have tried twice but keep running into a VERY slow internet connection. I will have to try again another day
Kgosi
Sunday, July 12, 2009
PICK YOUR POISON
Meetings in Botswana, as far as I can tell, are something of a mixed bag. Western meeting process is a relatively new concept here. Often meetings tend not to happen at all or start an hour later than scheduled since members, including the chairperson, don’t come until 45” into the meeting time. Meetings are long and are still something of a blur to me since they are predominantly conducted in Setswana. You do get the feeling that some of the members don’t see the wisdom of parliamentary procedure. Two things are guaranteed though. Firstly, tea and biscuits will be served (I am told that if food is not part of every event, nobody comes). Secondly, the meetings always begin and end with a prayer. During my first days, I made the error of offering to begin one meeting with a prayer and now it is rather expected that I do so at all times.
On Wednesday, the Monitoring Officer and I twice drove 30” to meetings that did not occur because important people were not there. Granted, in one case it was because there had been a 7 hour Kgotla meeting (think town council) which had just adjourned and people wanted to go home. There is a prevailing feeling that if things do not occur on a particular day, that they will eventually happen, and why should we even care. Somehow miraculously, things do get done.
Thursday, we did have a meeting which took place. This meeting was to receive the reports of four “sub-committee” groups that had been assigned tasks in a previous meeting so as to plan a large district-wide event which was up-coming soon. When called upon, two of the groups had essentially the same reply. They smiled broadly, said they had never gotten together since the last meeting and they had no report. Although I do not know what Pirate-speak sounds like in Setswana, I think the Chairman responded with something like “Arrrrrrgggg.”
The meeting went on for two hours mostly in Setswana with the final conclusion that we needed to schedule another meeting. Although I did put in my two cents worth to the discussion, the latter portion of the meeting was somewhat unintelligible until this dialogue---
Etc, etc etc (In Setswana)…….
Chairman: “Kgosi, so what do you think?”
Kgosi “Huh?”
Chairperson: “Perhaps you could close the meeting with a prayer.”
Kgosi: “Oh yes."
[Prayer]
Kgosi (thinking to himself): “We thank you Lord for bringing this meeting to a............a.............conclusion”
Sometimes you just wish for better Setswana and good old-fashioned American efficiency.
THE AMERICAN WAY (If this were not absolutely true, it would be funny)
Before we left for BW, Maureen and I, being the thrifty sorts that we are, decided we needed to find the credit card that had the lowest international conversion rate. Advised by Consumer Reports, we applied for and received a credit card. To protect the “innocent,” this card shall remain nameless-------------------------but its initials start with “Capital One No-Hassle Rewards Card.”
Having made one purchase 2 months ago for about $220.00, we decided that we needed to find out if the card worked in the Ramotswa ATM. One week ago we made a cash withdrawal of 200 pula (about $19). Having never received any previous communication from C. One, Thursday I received an email stating “Your credit card balance is past due and it will soon go to collection. You owe $276.92.” Trying to figure out what the accounting was, I logged on and saw that they had charged us a total of $54.76 for withdrawing the $19. In the midst of this investigation, the Internet went down. I tried again to log in to my on-line statement, but after several failed attempts to correctly enter my User Name and Password, I was “Locked Out” and unable to access my account. I then called C. One which led to the following conversation:
Agent # 1: “Yes Sir, can I help you?”
Kgosi: “Yes, I need to figure out how to get into my account on-line because I am “Locked Out.” I cannot figure out exactly why I owe $276.92 and I want to close my account.”
Agent # 1 “I see your account is about to go to collection. Do you want to pay now to keep out of collection?
Kgosi [reluctantly]: “OK, but I want to close my account.”
Agent # 1 “First I need…
Your full name?
Your birthdate?
The last four digits of your Social Security number?
Your billing address?
[After providing this information, a transaction ensued where I paid an amount to keep from going to collection]
Kgosi: “OK, that’s taken care of, but I want to close my account.”
Agent # 1 “May I ask why is that?”
Kgosi: “This card has been nothing but a hassle. I am now living in Africa. I never have received a statement. You charged me $54.76 to withdraw $19 and I don’t need this card.”
Agent # 1 “I am so sorry to hear that sir, but I need to transfer you to the on-line credit department to cancel your account.”
[4 minutes on hold]
Agent # 2 “Yes Sir, can I help you?”
Kgosi: “I want to cancel my card and I was told I needed to talk to you.”
Agent # 2 “May I ask why you want to cancel your card?”
Kgosi: “This card has not been working for me. I am now living in Africa. I never have received a statement. You charged me $54.76 to withdraw $19 and I don’t need this card.”
Agent # 2 “I am so sorry to hear that sir. First I need….
Your full name?
Your birthdate?
The last four digits of your Social Security number?
Your billing address?
[After providing this information again]
Agent # 2 “I am sorry sir, but our computers are down. I need to transfer you to another person who can handle that cancellation for you.”
[3 minutes on hold]
Agent # 3: “Can I help you sir?’
Kgosi: “Yes I want to cancel my card.”
Agent # 3 “First I need….
Your full name?
Your birthdate?
The last four digits of your Social Security number?
Your billing address?
Your credit limit?
Kgosi: “I have no idea what my credit limit is, but it was $54.76 higher before C. One charged me $54.76 to withdraw $19.”
[Pause]
Agent # 3 “I will be right back with you.”
[3 minutes on hold, getting increasingly anxious that I will now lose the international telephone connection]
Agent # 3 “I am sorry that you want to cancel sir, but I need to transfer you to the on-line credit department to cancel your card.”
Kgosi: “I have already talked to agent # 1 and he gave me to agent # 2 in the on-line credit department. She said I needed to talk to you. I don’t want to go back to the on-line credit department. I JUST WANT TO CANCEL MY CARD!”
[Pause]
Agent # 3 “Let me get back to you sir”
[4 minutes on hold]
Agent # 3 “OK sir maybe I can handle that for you.”
Kgosi: “Thank you, I want to cancel my card.”
[2 minutes on hold]
Agent # 3 “OK sir, I put in the order to have to have your card cancelled.”
Kgosi: “But you aren’t sure if it is cancelled?”
Agent # 3 “I put the order in.”
Kgosi: “How much more will I owe to have a zero balance and make sure I don’t receive any more charges?”
Agent # 3 “Well right now you owe $192.47.”
Kgosi: “So when I send you a check for the amount due, the balance may be different by the time that the check gets to you, and I may receive a statement saying that I owe
37 cents or some such amount.”
[Pause]
Agent # 3 “That is possible.”
Kgosi: “So if I want to zero the account, pay you and never hear from C. One again, how can I find out how much I owe?”
Agent # 3 “You can call back again when you get the bill and find out what the amount is for that day.”
Sometimes you just wish for a place where things are relaxed and no hassle, like...............like..............well...............Africa.
Kredit Kard Kgosi
On Wednesday, the Monitoring Officer and I twice drove 30” to meetings that did not occur because important people were not there. Granted, in one case it was because there had been a 7 hour Kgotla meeting (think town council) which had just adjourned and people wanted to go home. There is a prevailing feeling that if things do not occur on a particular day, that they will eventually happen, and why should we even care. Somehow miraculously, things do get done.
Thursday, we did have a meeting which took place. This meeting was to receive the reports of four “sub-committee” groups that had been assigned tasks in a previous meeting so as to plan a large district-wide event which was up-coming soon. When called upon, two of the groups had essentially the same reply. They smiled broadly, said they had never gotten together since the last meeting and they had no report. Although I do not know what Pirate-speak sounds like in Setswana, I think the Chairman responded with something like “Arrrrrrgggg.”
The meeting went on for two hours mostly in Setswana with the final conclusion that we needed to schedule another meeting. Although I did put in my two cents worth to the discussion, the latter portion of the meeting was somewhat unintelligible until this dialogue---
Etc, etc etc (In Setswana)…….
Chairman: “Kgosi, so what do you think?”
Kgosi “Huh?”
Chairperson: “Perhaps you could close the meeting with a prayer.”
Kgosi: “Oh yes."
[Prayer]
Kgosi (thinking to himself): “We thank you Lord for bringing this meeting to a............a.............conclusion”
Sometimes you just wish for better Setswana and good old-fashioned American efficiency.
THE AMERICAN WAY (If this were not absolutely true, it would be funny)
Before we left for BW, Maureen and I, being the thrifty sorts that we are, decided we needed to find the credit card that had the lowest international conversion rate. Advised by Consumer Reports, we applied for and received a credit card. To protect the “innocent,” this card shall remain nameless-------------------------but its initials start with “Capital One No-Hassle Rewards Card.”
Having made one purchase 2 months ago for about $220.00, we decided that we needed to find out if the card worked in the Ramotswa ATM. One week ago we made a cash withdrawal of 200 pula (about $19). Having never received any previous communication from C. One, Thursday I received an email stating “Your credit card balance is past due and it will soon go to collection. You owe $276.92.” Trying to figure out what the accounting was, I logged on and saw that they had charged us a total of $54.76 for withdrawing the $19. In the midst of this investigation, the Internet went down. I tried again to log in to my on-line statement, but after several failed attempts to correctly enter my User Name and Password, I was “Locked Out” and unable to access my account. I then called C. One which led to the following conversation:
Agent # 1: “Yes Sir, can I help you?”
Kgosi: “Yes, I need to figure out how to get into my account on-line because I am “Locked Out.” I cannot figure out exactly why I owe $276.92 and I want to close my account.”
Agent # 1 “I see your account is about to go to collection. Do you want to pay now to keep out of collection?
Kgosi [reluctantly]: “OK, but I want to close my account.”
Agent # 1 “First I need…
Your full name?
Your birthdate?
The last four digits of your Social Security number?
Your billing address?
[After providing this information, a transaction ensued where I paid an amount to keep from going to collection]
Kgosi: “OK, that’s taken care of, but I want to close my account.”
Agent # 1 “May I ask why is that?”
Kgosi: “This card has been nothing but a hassle. I am now living in Africa. I never have received a statement. You charged me $54.76 to withdraw $19 and I don’t need this card.”
Agent # 1 “I am so sorry to hear that sir, but I need to transfer you to the on-line credit department to cancel your account.”
[4 minutes on hold]
Agent # 2 “Yes Sir, can I help you?”
Kgosi: “I want to cancel my card and I was told I needed to talk to you.”
Agent # 2 “May I ask why you want to cancel your card?”
Kgosi: “This card has not been working for me. I am now living in Africa. I never have received a statement. You charged me $54.76 to withdraw $19 and I don’t need this card.”
Agent # 2 “I am so sorry to hear that sir. First I need….
Your full name?
Your birthdate?
The last four digits of your Social Security number?
Your billing address?
[After providing this information again]
Agent # 2 “I am sorry sir, but our computers are down. I need to transfer you to another person who can handle that cancellation for you.”
[3 minutes on hold]
Agent # 3: “Can I help you sir?’
Kgosi: “Yes I want to cancel my card.”
Agent # 3 “First I need….
Your full name?
Your birthdate?
The last four digits of your Social Security number?
Your billing address?
Your credit limit?
Kgosi: “I have no idea what my credit limit is, but it was $54.76 higher before C. One charged me $54.76 to withdraw $19.”
[Pause]
Agent # 3 “I will be right back with you.”
[3 minutes on hold, getting increasingly anxious that I will now lose the international telephone connection]
Agent # 3 “I am sorry that you want to cancel sir, but I need to transfer you to the on-line credit department to cancel your card.”
Kgosi: “I have already talked to agent # 1 and he gave me to agent # 2 in the on-line credit department. She said I needed to talk to you. I don’t want to go back to the on-line credit department. I JUST WANT TO CANCEL MY CARD!”
[Pause]
Agent # 3 “Let me get back to you sir”
[4 minutes on hold]
Agent # 3 “OK sir maybe I can handle that for you.”
Kgosi: “Thank you, I want to cancel my card.”
[2 minutes on hold]
Agent # 3 “OK sir, I put in the order to have to have your card cancelled.”
Kgosi: “But you aren’t sure if it is cancelled?”
Agent # 3 “I put the order in.”
Kgosi: “How much more will I owe to have a zero balance and make sure I don’t receive any more charges?”
Agent # 3 “Well right now you owe $192.47.”
Kgosi: “So when I send you a check for the amount due, the balance may be different by the time that the check gets to you, and I may receive a statement saying that I owe
37 cents or some such amount.”
[Pause]
Agent # 3 “That is possible.”
Kgosi: “So if I want to zero the account, pay you and never hear from C. One again, how can I find out how much I owe?”
Agent # 3 “You can call back again when you get the bill and find out what the amount is for that day.”
Sometimes you just wish for a place where things are relaxed and no hassle, like...............like..............well...............Africa.
Kredit Kard Kgosi
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Star-Struck--Celebrity Status in Botswana
Maureen (Kopo in Setswana) got introduced to the student body of her school last week, all 1600 of them, and is now better known than Santa Claus around here. Students on the street call her by name and wave. I am merely Kopo’s live-in. During the same noon hour lunch break last week, one lady came over to say “Kopo, I want to be your daughter” and another person invited us to her wedding even though we had never met her before!
On our trip to Gabarone 12 miles away, we were walking down the street when one of the students came across the road to greet her by name. “Hi Kopo, did you know that Michael Jackson died?” When Kopo said she was aware of that, the student wanted to know if we had ever met him. Disappointed that we had not, the girl rattled off the names of several other current Pop stars, sure that we personally knew at least one of them. After all, if this student could find us in another town, surely as Americans we knew Beyonce. I can see when we get back to the States we need to get out more.
On this trip, we had our first experience with BW public transportation. Technically we are on, what the PC volunteers call “lock down” for the first three months, which means we are not supposed to leave our home villages. We are however allowed to go to the nearest shopping village for things unavailable in our home village. For us this happens to be Gabarone and Maureen needed a winter coat to avoid night time frost bite. Bus service from Ramotswa to Gabs (as it is known to all the locals), is regular about every half hour during the day, and there is a stop close to my work site. We waited 20 minutes and climbed aboard with 40 of our now nearest and dearest friends. Unlike the Jo’burg to Gabarone bus which is more of Greyhound/Trailways variety, this one was closer to the Mexican “Chicken bus.” No animals aboard but plenty of people. The “conductor” came through the aisle, or should I say she stumbled, wedged and elbowed her way through the aisle which was packed with standing riders. Carrying a canvas sack, she collected the fare which is 5 Pula 70 Thebe (totaling about 80 cents) for the 12 mile trip. Like virtually all the cab drivers and shop clerks, she was pleasant, scrupulously honest and came back to provide a printed receipt. Going into town, the trip took 45 minutes as several stops were made prior to the southern edge of town where the PC offices are and there is shopping.
Miller Time
I don’t know who first coined the phrase “It’s Miller Time”-- my Mother Kathleen Emma Louise Miller or the Milwaukee brewer. Nevertheless, Miller Time has been a fixture in our family for many years and signifies a time to relax after a strenuous task and take time for one’s self, with or without a cold beverage. There are also many “Miller Moments” experienced by all of our family, especially my daughter Meghan Miller Doran and yours truly, Christopher Miller Doran. A Miller Moment can be any experience, encounter or event that is particularly memorable and/or funny.
The most recent Miller Moment occurred on the return bus trip from Gabs. I was standing in the aisle, situated directly behind a 25-ish year old BW woman. She was quite talkative and seemed to be getting louder as the trip went on, but I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. At the Ramotswa turn off from the main road, she appeared to be getting off, but gingerly trotted like a Clydesdale a few yards to the side of the road. It now became obvious that she had had several dibojalwa (Setswana for the Undisputed King of Beers). This likely accounted for her urgent need, as well as her willingness to tolerate total lack of privacy. There were no trees or bushes but she dropped her pants in full view of the crowded bus and took a leak. It was not brewed “High in the Rockies’ and without doubt was not “Rocky Mountain Spring Water” but gushed it did. The “Great Taste, Less Filling” debate had been resolved. Her liquid refreshment was clearly “more filling.” She calmly pulled up her pants and returned to the bus with nary a blush. There was no bow for her performance as there might have been in the US. I felt it deserved a Pabst Blue Ribbon, but I was not familiar enough with bus etiquette to begin a standing ovation. Anyway, a toast to celebrity status-- “Ma’am this Bud’s for you”.
Klydesdale Kgosi
On our trip to Gabarone 12 miles away, we were walking down the street when one of the students came across the road to greet her by name. “Hi Kopo, did you know that Michael Jackson died?” When Kopo said she was aware of that, the student wanted to know if we had ever met him. Disappointed that we had not, the girl rattled off the names of several other current Pop stars, sure that we personally knew at least one of them. After all, if this student could find us in another town, surely as Americans we knew Beyonce. I can see when we get back to the States we need to get out more.
On this trip, we had our first experience with BW public transportation. Technically we are on, what the PC volunteers call “lock down” for the first three months, which means we are not supposed to leave our home villages. We are however allowed to go to the nearest shopping village for things unavailable in our home village. For us this happens to be Gabarone and Maureen needed a winter coat to avoid night time frost bite. Bus service from Ramotswa to Gabs (as it is known to all the locals), is regular about every half hour during the day, and there is a stop close to my work site. We waited 20 minutes and climbed aboard with 40 of our now nearest and dearest friends. Unlike the Jo’burg to Gabarone bus which is more of Greyhound/Trailways variety, this one was closer to the Mexican “Chicken bus.” No animals aboard but plenty of people. The “conductor” came through the aisle, or should I say she stumbled, wedged and elbowed her way through the aisle which was packed with standing riders. Carrying a canvas sack, she collected the fare which is 5 Pula 70 Thebe (totaling about 80 cents) for the 12 mile trip. Like virtually all the cab drivers and shop clerks, she was pleasant, scrupulously honest and came back to provide a printed receipt. Going into town, the trip took 45 minutes as several stops were made prior to the southern edge of town where the PC offices are and there is shopping.
Miller Time
I don’t know who first coined the phrase “It’s Miller Time”-- my Mother Kathleen Emma Louise Miller or the Milwaukee brewer. Nevertheless, Miller Time has been a fixture in our family for many years and signifies a time to relax after a strenuous task and take time for one’s self, with or without a cold beverage. There are also many “Miller Moments” experienced by all of our family, especially my daughter Meghan Miller Doran and yours truly, Christopher Miller Doran. A Miller Moment can be any experience, encounter or event that is particularly memorable and/or funny.
The most recent Miller Moment occurred on the return bus trip from Gabs. I was standing in the aisle, situated directly behind a 25-ish year old BW woman. She was quite talkative and seemed to be getting louder as the trip went on, but I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. At the Ramotswa turn off from the main road, she appeared to be getting off, but gingerly trotted like a Clydesdale a few yards to the side of the road. It now became obvious that she had had several dibojalwa (Setswana for the Undisputed King of Beers). This likely accounted for her urgent need, as well as her willingness to tolerate total lack of privacy. There were no trees or bushes but she dropped her pants in full view of the crowded bus and took a leak. It was not brewed “High in the Rockies’ and without doubt was not “Rocky Mountain Spring Water” but gushed it did. The “Great Taste, Less Filling” debate had been resolved. Her liquid refreshment was clearly “more filling.” She calmly pulled up her pants and returned to the bus with nary a blush. There was no bow for her performance as there might have been in the US. I felt it deserved a Pabst Blue Ribbon, but I was not familiar enough with bus etiquette to begin a standing ovation. Anyway, a toast to celebrity status-- “Ma’am this Bud’s for you”.
Klydesdale Kgosi
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