wednesday windows #8.

another glimpse into my wacky world.

taken through my car window (this seems to be my favorite window from which to take these weekly pictures). i cheated and took this picture on tuesday, but it was too fascinating to ignore. it's not that i have never before seen fog (the town in which i grew up is blanketed in thick fog nearly every morning), it's just that i have never seen it engulf miami. i have lived here for five years and this was the first morning that i woke up to a soupy fog.

this is one of the laundry rooms in our building. not much to look at, but it has machines. fancy, eh? you don't think so? i do. today is laundry day. i hate doing laundry (yes, i have complained about this before), but every time i consider wallowing in my misery, i think of my in-laws who have to do their laundry by hand. and then i thank my lucky stars that i have machines to do it for me.

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tales of lesotho. part three.

any place you go, there are always things unique to that place and lesotho is no exception. i am sure that many of these things also happen in other places, but no place that i have ever been. so as far as i am concerned, these are some of the things that make me say, "this could only happen in lesotho..."

accordions. in lesotho playing the accordion is cool.

this guy practices his accordion skills on top of the mini-mountain.

blankets. this is not just something for your bed or your couch, this is actually an accessory. suitable for wearing around the waist or shoulders. these can be worn morning, noon, or night, and during any season; but obviously are most prominent in the winter. women often wear two: one around their waist and a second around their shoulders. for reasons of modesty, i thought that married women had to wear one around their waist, but my mother-in-law informed me that is only if they feel like it. considering that i cannot remember seeing a woman in the village without a blanket around her waist, either everyone really loves blankets or my mother-in-law was giving her american daughter-in-law (who does not particularly like following rules) permission to break the cultural norm.

don't have a proper coat? just wear your blanket.

style. in lesotho the only rule for fashion is matching, which happens to be the same rule by which my father exists. if you are wearing a top and a bottom, you are matching. i am sure you can imagine this creates some interesting outfits. in the winter it is especially fascinating to see the many layers, colors, patterns, and fabrics worn simultaneously. my mother-in-law takes the basotho version of matching to a mesmerizing extreme, which made me love her even more. my american brain cannot grasp this concept fully enough to embody the basotho 'style,' but i like to think i do a decent impression.

the many incarnations of my mother-in-law's style.

teeth. if you have them, great. if you don't, smile proud. enough said.

is there a dentist in the house?

drive-thru (or sit-thru) shopping. the taxis in lesotho are kind of like VW buses and hold 15 passengers, along with their small children, bags, luggage, purchases, and even chickens. in town these taxis take some time to fill up. you might wait as long as 40 minutes before you depart for your destination, but do not worry, because during this time you can sit in your seat and shop. that's right. whether you want them to or not, vendors will bring their wares to your window. you can ignore them, or if you are like me, you can embrace this concept and happily shop to your heart's content. the best part? if you see something you like, but it is not close by, just give a shout and the people will come to you. and if the taxi starts leaving, fear not. they will wait for you to complete your transaction before pulling out of the taxi rank.

shopping from the comfort of your taxi.

housing. the houses are made of mud or tin, but there is something beautiful in their simplicity.

an assortment of the neighbor's houses.

cleaning. considering that people live in homes with clay walls, dirt floors, grass roofs, and no running water, it is easy to assume that things are dirty. actually, the basotho are obsessed with cleanliness. the standard rule of thumb is that kitchen and food is kept separate from bedroom and people. this means that the buckets used for washing bodies, clothes, and bedding, are never used with food or dishes and vice versa. in fact, kitchen towels are not washed with regular laundry, they are washed in the dishwater. in the beginning of my time in lesotho, i found this all rather confusing, but i eventually figured it out and actually decided it makes sense. i do not follow the same laundry rules here in the states, but i have to admit that every time i throw a kitchen towel in with our clothes, i feel like i am breaking a rule. there are a couple of things that i could never wrap my brain around. one is washing the outside of a water bucket and then placing the water bucket in the puddle of dirty water under the tap. the other is that you should sweep your yard every morning, but the rest of the day it is perfectly acceptable to throw garbage on the ground. if you are feeling productive, you can put it in the garbage pit and burn it.

washing water buckets, doing the dishes outside on the dirt stoop, laundry, and burning garbage.

visiting and food. probably my favorite part of lesotho is visiting with people. it is not like here where you make plans to meet people or stop by their house. nope nope. you just drop by whenever you feel like it. you can stay for five minutes or five hours, your choice. best of all...they will feed you! in fact, if you are hungry and just do not feel like cooking, stop by the neighbor's house and ask them what they cooked. if it sounds good, then ask them to feed you. they will. cool, huh?

yum yum.

carrying things. the basotho women carry everything on their head. everything. no matter the size or the weight, if it needs to be carried, up it goes. this is no small feat when you consider that some of the things are bigger than they are and some of these parcels weigh close to 50 pounds. but the part that really gets me is that the older women can do this with no hands.

who needs a mule when you can just throw things on your head?

announcements. when we need to broadcast information to the general public, we can pass our message via television, radio, newspapers, flyers, and of course the internet. since these are not options available to the village, the basotho use a village announcer. so when the chief needs to tell people that children will be vaccinated on friday or that there is a funeral on saturday, there is one dude whose job is to climb to the top of the mini-mountain and 'broadcast' whatever news the people need to know. i like to think i can understand sesotho, but i cannot understand a word this guy says. but do not fret, because everyone else understands him just fine.

the effectiveness of this 'broadcast' is astounding.

signs. i know there are lots of places in the world  that have weird signs and i am happy to report that lesotho perpetuates that tradition. my personal favorite is the shop called "dudu shop. no. 2 special."

want a beer? go to the tarven.

the jumpsuit. yes, those crazy suits, which the western world reserves for military personnel, are happily worn by the men of lesotho. in the states we have cowboys. in lesotho there are herdboys. for the most part they serve the same purpose, but the outfit is a little different.

the jumpsuit in its full glory.

toilets. well actually these are what we call outhouses and what the 'designers' call pit latrines. they come in all shapes and sizes and i find them rather fascinating. the basotho are mortified by the idea of someone taking a picture of their toilet, so these were all taken in secret. shhhh... don't tell.

a room with a view.

**UPDATED** next installment...smiling faces.

tales of lesotho. part two.

life in the village is slow and quiet, but that does not mean that it is boring, because there is always something to do. always. it is a patriarchal society, so it is not surprising that the males seem to do a whole lot of nothing. if you speak to basotho men they will assure you that they do a LOT of work, but considering they often add "eating" to their list of daily work, i take their assurances with a BIG grain of salt. what DO they do all day? hard to say. some of them spend the day in the fields watching over cows, sheep, or goats. some work in the fields. and some spend the afternoon in the shop drinking beer. no matter what they do, you can be certain that they will come home, eat a lot of food, and make a big mess, which they will not clean up. 

watching cows. bringing maize in from the fields. bringing maize stalks from the fields. drinking beer in the shop.

the women on the other hand seem to do the bulk of the work. not only do the women take care of the domestic duties, throughout the day they are also taking care of babies and children. the concept "it takes a village to raise a child" is alive in lesotho, which means that even those with no children or grown children will still find themselves caring for little ones. whether it is feeding, bathing, or comforting, the children always have needs.

babies go everywhere with their mothers. and grandmothers (far right) help raise their grandchildren.

"a woman's work is never done." her day starts shortly after 7am with sweeping the dirt. yes i know this is a weird concept, but i assure you that at most every house, the women wake up, put some water on to boil, and then step outside to sweep the dirt yard. what is even more disturbing is that after having lived in lesotho for a couple years, i actually buy into this concept, because it makes the house look pretty. by the time you are finished making the dirt look pretty, the water should be boiling, which is perfect, because it is time to do the dishes. this is a standard operation...scraps go to the pig and then wash, rinse, and dry. once there are clean dishes, it is time to make breakfast. the menu varies, but my personal favorite is tea and bread. make six or seven cups of tea and plates of bread and serve it to people. when everyone is done eating there are more dishes. super. and pots. ugh.

sweeping dirt. washing dishes. preparing a bowl of sour porridge.

now is a good time to take a trip to the village water pump to get water. if you are planning to do some laundry, you probably want to take two trips to the water pump. once you have water, you can wash clothes (by hand), or do whatever other chores you had planned...you know sorting beans, taking the chaff out of corn, or shining pots. once that is complete you must start pondering what you are cooking for lunch. my favorite is papa (a thick porridge made from maize meal) with soup, a strange but delicious substance similar to spaghetti sauce. finish cooking, prepare six or seven plates, hand them out, and then add the empty plates to the stack of dirty dishes.

laundry. sorting beans. removing chaff from maize. polishing pots.

at this point it is about 1pm. time to relax. for five minutes. and then you have your choice of options. go to the fields to shuck maize or head over to the neighbor's house to take corn off the cob. i was lucky because my mother-in-law (m'e') was crazy protective of me and would not let me participate in these laborious tasks, so i typically spent the afternoon visiting with friends and family.

bringing maize stalks from the fields. sorting through maize. taking maize off the cob.

but one day i did convince her to let me tag along when she went to take corn off the cob. not a horrible task, because it is one time the women will not yell at me for sitting on the ground (they believe women of child-bearing age should not sit on the ground, because it could make the womb cold....right) and it is a great place to catch up on village gossip. m'e' was pleasantly surprised to discover that i actually know how to properly take corn off the cob. of course i am a whole lot slower than her. she tried to con me into believing that i was as fast as her, but let's be honest...i cleaned 131 cobs (yes, i counted) and she cleaned five or six hundred. in my book, this is not even a contest.

my niece taking maize off the cob. my 131 clean cobs. m'e' and her gigantic stack of clean cobs.

upon returning home, it is time to make dinner. if you have a chicken and the thought of chopping off its head does not make you want to vomit, then you can have meat for dinner. if you are me, then you stick with peeling and dicing potatoes. get dinner started, take laundry off the line, and start a fire in the wood stove so everyone will be warm in the evening. put a kettle of water on the stove. prepare and serve dinner and then add the plates to the growing heap of dirty dishes.

removing feathers from a chicken. cooking papa inside. cooking outside.

now it is time to sit around, chit chat, and drink tea (more dirty dishes). sometime around eight or nine everyone will head off to their houses to sleep (families typically have a few little huts within the family compound, so they do not all sleep together. for example, the mister and i slept in one house, m'e' and female guests slept in the second house, and our little brother and male guests slept in the third house). this is a good time to take a hot bath, so you can be warm before jumping into a frozen bed. after all it is winter and despite the raging inferno inside the wood stove, temperatures inside the house are in the low fifties.

bathing in a bucket.

sleep for ten hours and the whole process starts over. thank goodness i was never left alone to do all of this work. between my sisters and nieces visiting, we always had at least three females performing these chores, but not all women are so lucky. after one month of doing only a fraction of the daily work, i am completely in awe of the women who do all of this work virtually unassisted. here in the states we aspire to have luxuries like fancy cars and big houses, but thirty days in lesotho and suddenly running water and electricity seem like precious luxuries. i cannot even describe the heaven that is dishwashers, washing machines, and grocery stores. i only hope i can sustain my appreciation until the next time i visit the village.

next installment...only in lesotho.

laundry list.

i am a slave to my lists and i create lists for everything. in two hours, the mister and i are departing on a month-long trip to lesotho. in order to prepare for the trip i wrote endless lists of things that needed to be done, purchased, packed, etc. i wrote lists for my lists. at some point in the last week i was trying to accomplish the tasks on no less than five lists. the hardest part is distractions. i never fail to come up with forty-three unlisted activities. some of the distractions are play and some of them are essentials that i somehow neglected to add to the list. yesterday i discovered that laundry was not on the list, so i did three loads of laundry. then comes the important question. do i add "laundry" to the list just so that i can experience the satisfaction of crossing it out, or is that just nonsense? on a normal day i would probably add it to the list, because that's what i do. but yesterday i seem to have gotten distracted from my distraction and never actually accomplished the inane task of writing something on my list just to cross it out.

speaking of laundry..egads. it wouldn't be so bad if you just had to do it sometimes. but if you wait too long, the job becomes exponentially more painful. i dream of the day when the mister and i will have a laundry machine inside our home. that would be swell. but for now i have to save up quarters and trudge down the hallway to the communal laundry rooms. although i did buy some fun new laundry baskets that just happen to be my favorite shade of avocado green. scrumptious. seeing my pretty baskets makes the job a little less yucky. the funny thing is that five years ago, when i was in the peace corps and had to wash all of my laundry by HAND, i swore that i would never ever again whine about washing laundry in a machine. i guess i have to eat my words, because i sure am whining! i am guessing that after this trip and a month of doing laundry by hand, i am gonna be thanking my lucky stars that when i return to the u.s.a. i will get to use a machine and i will not be so picky about that machine's location. perhaps i just need a trip to the village every couple years to remind me how luxurious my life truly is.

on that note, i wish thee well. the mister and i will be spending the next month in his childhood home..a little village in lesotho. we'll be living in a hut with no electricity or running water, and bathing in a bucket. yup, that's right...bathing in a bucket. a month off the grid. no iphone, facebook, blog, internet, computer, television, etc. i will be listening to lesotho radio and having good ol' fashioned face-to-face conversations. happy july to you!!!!!