Friday was designated the first Botswana National Day of Service. All work places were to organize and carry out a day-long service project for the underprivileged in their Districts. Here, we came up with two projects: Plant fruit trees in Mogobane and Build a self-sustaining garden for a needy family in Ramotswa.
As the day progressed, it exemplified some of the traits of the Batswana--both the good and the irritating. Seventy people showed up, were divided into two groups and were transported to the sites. In Ramotswa, the site was just across town from our house and was a large (65’ by 30’) plot that was hardpan and choked with weeds.
Immediately, everyone took pitchforks, shovels, rakes, pick axes and a wheelbarrow to dig up the ground and pull out the weeds. People of all shapes, sizes and levels of responsibility were there---department heads, secretaries, drivers, land board members, district counselors, the DAC office staff, people from the library, veterinary services, agriculture and others. The outfits were also quite varied, from jeans and work clothes to fancy office wear. Footwear included flip flops, sandals, athletic shoes, high heels and dress pumps. A few folks came in jackets or sweaters even though it was into the high 80’s by 8 AM. Together, we dug, shoveled, raked and cleared for the first 2 1/2 hours and had the ground looking presentably overturned as the temperature climbed.
Two incidents stood out:
I kept hearing the sound of sloshing water, even though the area was as dry as a bone. I eventually figured out that the sound was coming from a young Botswana lad wearing mid-calf high rubber boots inside which was water. When I asked, he said he was keeping his ‘feet cool.” Several hours later, I saw him take the boots off to reveal feet that looked pale and waterlogged. He then dumped the water into a flower bed (Never waste water in the desert!).
After 2 1/2 hours without stopping, I was sweat-drenched, over-cooked with the sun and out of breath. I went over to an empty plastic chair in the shade and plopped myself down in a heap. Several minutes later, the Council Secretary, a 40-ish year old woman, dressed in an olive green business suit and high heels came over and said, “That’s my chair.”
Never before has Kgosi cold-cocked a lady in high heels.
OK--- It wasn't really a one-punch knock out. She was still conscious after the left hook.
In retrospect, I would have liked to have said, “Yes Mma. (huff-puff) Give me a minute, Mma. (huff- puff). You know it would be nice to share the chairs and the shade with those of us who are actually working." Whatever I said seemed to prod her a bit to do a few tasks later in the morning.
Once the ground was cleared, we began digging raised dirt rows, two feet wide alternating with furrows. They were laid out with a rope line, perfectly straight, perfectly groomed and raked flat. The Batswana penchant for precision even got to the point where several beds that had not been arranged with the rope line, were re-dug and moved slightly because they weren’t quite evenly spaced. Since it was now well into the mid-90’s temperature wise, I wanted to say, “Hey guys and gals, this is dirt, not micro circuitry.”
A rubber tubing, surface drip watering system was built, mostly by Mr. Sloshy Galoshes. Others of us shoveled fire ash into the soil as fertilizer. Gum poles (twelve feet high and three inches in diameter) were erected over one portion of the garden and shade netting was fixed into place. By the time it was all finished with plantings put in, it was fit for Home and Garden magazine. (Pictures will be posted on the blog at the end of the week.) The garden will provide food for the next door family and sufficient extra vegetables to sell for income. Not bad for one day’s work--giving a family an indefinite supply of food and source of self-sufficiency.
Peace Corps Goal 1—Providing assistance to people of other countries. Check
Peace Corps Goal 2—Helping people of other countries understand American culture. Check
Peace Corps Goal 3—Helping Americans understand other cultures. Blog posted. Check
Best Compliment of 2010
After two hours of heavy digging, one of the young strong Batswana fellows came over to me and said, “When this started, I saw you and said to myself—‘Aieesh…What is an old white guy going to be able to do?’ --but you really work hard.”
As a patient of mine once told me, “I can live for three months on one good compliment.”
Kgosi
