The Chickens Are All Gone:  All chickens in the residential neighborhood of Kwena Sereto have been beheaded, plucked, and stored for eating later or they have been sold.  The school does not allow farm animals to live on the grounds.  They have finally taken a hard-line to get rid of the chickens.

Agriculture classes are available at Kwena Sereto and a requirement of that class is to plant and grow a garden on the school grounds.  Many of the students have very nice plots that they water and weed every day, including Saturday and Sunday.  The school garden is several acres big with surrounding razor wire.

The garden plot

But the chickens love the gardens and find every nook and cranny around the fence, and they eat the garden fruits and vegetables.

At our school weekly staff meeting, there was only one announcement.  Those persons with chickens will be fined and the fine will increase every day.

Most of the meeting was in Setswana and it is often difficult for me to fully understand – but they said “It is not fair to the students” in English.  And I got excited for a minute.  I was wondering what they were talking about besides the chickens.  I was so happy to hear someone say something at the school was not fair to the students.  The principle was doing something to support the students!!!!!!  The meeting ended shortly and I asked a teacher exactly what was discussed.

Teacher:  “The chickens have to go and teachers are being fined.”

Me:  “Why are the teachers being fined?”

Teacher:  “The chickens.  The teachers are letting them roam and they are eating the garden.”

Me:  “What was the Head (Principle) saying was unfair to the students?”

Teacher:  The chickens are eating the gardens.”

Me:  “That’s it – just the chickens?  The whole meeting was about the chickens?”

Teacher:  “The students get graded on the outcome of their garden.  It isn’t fair that the chickens are eating the gardens.”

OMG! Here are the things I think are unfair to the students every single day in this school

• Teachers can and do beat the children with sticks, their hands and their fists  for whatever whim strikes them every day.
• There are not enough books for the kids to take home and sometimes not enough to share.
• Form 3 students (10^th grade) are still being taught with Form 1 books (8^th grade)
• Several classes are using books that are no longer used for testing because the school won’t buy current books.
• There are not enough desks.
• There are not enough chairs and these 12 – 18 year old boys and girls must share chairs for an 80 minute long class.
• Some classes don’t have an assigned teacher or a book and students are still tested each month (most all of these students fail the test).
• Teachers do not attend class with no consequences.
• Classes don’t really start the first week nor are there classes conducted the last week of the trimesters (that is six weeks of missed school), because teachers use those weeks to organize and grade tests.  Classes are also cancelled if the teachers get assignments from the Ministry of Education.
• Students are not allowed to use the 4 working computers the school has in the student computer lab, and are not taught a required computer class the entire time they are in junior school.
• Students are required to sit for a 1.5 hour study hall at the end of the day, but there are no supervisors.  A handful of students make it impossible for anyone else to study.
• There is no nurse’s office (for 900 kids of which at least 5% have HIV).
• There is no counseling office and if a student wants counseling he/she must come to the teachers’ lounge and tell their problems in front of everyone.
• Many students wear rags, like out of Charles Dickens novel rags, threadbare, shredded, with rips and tears to school.
• Lunch is served from bowls that are sitting on the ground.  There are no tables, chairs, napkins, condiments or silverware.  Lunch is mostly palache (grits) every single day.  One day a week they get a piece of meat.  Two days a week they get a piece of fruit with their palache.  Sometimes they get samp instead of palache.
• The school has broken doors and windows that have not been replaced in the entire time I have been here.  Wall panels which are necessary to separate one class room from another are not replaced when broken making it extremely difficult to hear your teacher.
• Teachers can and do sexually harass the girls and there is NOTHING that will be done about this unless the girl can “prove” it.  If she can prove it, the teacher can be fired.  This has happened once in 8 years in the entire county.
• I have seen some teachers sexually harass boys too.

Never have I heard any of the issues be brought up in staff meetings or even generally discussed outside the circle of Peace Corps volunteers.  But the chickens merit one entire staff briefing.  It turns out many of the teachers don’t like the chickens roaming the hood (and I don’t blame them for that).  Since this seems to be a concern of students as well as teachers it is being addressed.

Mitigation:  I was very happy when later that day the head girl (explained below) and the head boy came to me to ask why the teachers don’t care about them or school.  Both students were upset that their education is being short-changed.  We reviewed some school policies about their “rights” as students and she was going to call a meeting of the other prefects to discuss setting up a meeting with the School Head.  I am reminded of the young people’s movement in the sixties in the United States.  I sometimes feel like I can see the future here, because so many things are like the United States 50 years ago – and I am happy to sort of get a chance to re-live a time like that in a different county.  I am sad about this school, but very happy to see students take steps to take care of themselves.  These specific students future looks bright regardless of what the school does or does not do.

I remind myself that African-Americans were given the right to vote after the civil war.  However, it took another 100 years before the Civil Rights Law was passed, and there was some will behind the law to provide equity, and many would argue that African-Americans are still disenfranchised from voting in America today.  Botswana has only been an independent county for 46 years.  Things have changed a great deal in America and I believe they will change here too.  I will do what I can to play my part.

Head Girl and Head Boy:  are the “heads” of the prefects.  The prefects are selected by teachers and administrators to represent student interest in the schools.  Ministry of Education policy requires they have a place on each committee and in most school meetings.  Policy outlines many rights students should be given to take part in the governance of the school.  Nice policy – but little action.  The prefects are allowed to serve lunch, and do a few other work projects – but I don’t see anything like getting to take part in the real policy of the students.

Sleeping:  While we miss the chickens – we do enjoy the morning much more now.

Set up for the Sequel:  There are two mother hens brooding on about 25 eggs that are nesting/hiding in discarded grass.  John continues to feed and water the broody hens…..

Will they hatch, grow up and deprive the students once again?

So the post office called us and said there were two boxes and we needed to come pick them up right away!  This was just days after having received 8 boxes on one day!  5 from my sister Marlaina (thank you so much!) and 3 boxes of Carols’ winter clothes from Carol’s mom (thank you so much too!), which was just a week after having received 2 boxes from Carol’s Dad and Karyl, who send us boxes all the time!   We are eternally grateful to all of you (just too many to name!) who have sent us boxes!

Jackwagon

(except that Jackwagon, Louie Hernandez).

That day of the 8 boxes, the Post Office called me hysterical.  They could not accommodate the room and I was to IMMEDIATELY come pick up these boxes!   They are so paranoid that we might leave the boxes there, in their small little Post Office.  How little they reasoned through this….

So I took a taxi to the Post Office to pick up my two boxes and greeted my friend Bashi behind the counter.  Carol and I are very famous at the Post Office thanks to all of you who are supporting our Wish List!    He said “you have sunglasses in your box!”.    I immediately suspected that the box my dad had sent me 4 months ago and was assumed MIA, had finally arrived and that perhaps it had been damaged so they had opened it and checked the contents.  Nope.   It was just the regular 4 months late box.  No big deal.  My dad had written “sunglasses” on the outside for customs and that’s why Bashi had known to say that.  Since my dad had told me 4 months ago he was sending a small box and there were several pairs of cool sunglasses in there, I took a chance before I opened the box and told Bashi he could have a pair.  His face lit up like a kid in a candy store. But when I opened the box and handed him a fresh pair of very cool looking, tinted, safety sunglasses, not only was he overjoyed,  but all of a sudden there were 5 Post Office employees at the counter (where there had only been one before to wait on the all day long-hour long line of customers!)    The others turned green with a fun kind of envy as they all milled and stewed over this new pair of glasses!  I was afraid they might all ask for glasses, but fortunately they just laughed and giggled and looked so proud just to know the guy who got the glasses!

I knew it would be fun and easy to give those things away to people and it was especially nice to end the wondering about what had happened to that overdue box.  Thanks dad!

The Pen:  A nice girl (Vice-President of Study Groups in PACT) borrowed my pen, and I knew it would never be returned, but there are some people you will let keep your pen without resentment.  She is an orphan.

That night she showed up at my house.  She said she would never take anything that was not hers, so she was returning the pen.  BUT, she LOVED the pen!  She said it is the best pen she ever saw or used in her life.  She was asking if she could have it.

The desired pen had been shipped from America (from dad) and was better than a Bic – a slightly above average pen.  I told her she could keep the pen.  She squealed and hugged me and told me she loved me as if I had just given her a Blackberry cell phone.  So little makes so many happy here.

3 Feet Tall Grass - Before

If we would have hired a “piece job” worker it would have taken about 15 hours to clear the yard. Mostly older women with no education do this work. We thought the boys (Ages, 16, 15, 12, 11, 6 and 2) would take 15 or 20 hours too. It would be a nice weekend job for a bunch of boys who normally sit in the yard all day.

The boys immediately ban the 6 and 2 year-old from work, which made them cry and/or whine for hours. They also followed the standard work ethic of most construction workers here, which is to have one or two guys work while everyone else gets to watch. The construction crews rotate so everyone gets about an hour of work a day. It took the boys 4 weekends to finish, and they ended up letting the 6-year-old do hours of work by himself. They somehow made it last that long despite John’s fairly constant attempts to keep them focused.

Phase 1 -This is the first patch completed - now with three weeks growth

Maybe one of the reasons for the delay was the lunches. John made them P&J sandwiches, carrots, peanuts, and apple slices. They had never had jelly on their sandwiches and were absolutely delighted with that and everything else. Apparently they eat a lot of rice at home. They consumed the lunch in about 3 minute and raved about it for two hours. When we saw how much they enjoyed the mundane lunch – we decided to make them a nice lunch each day they worked, which I think may have led to a work slow down.

They always love chocolate cakes (also sent from America) and to offset the lunch incentive I promised to bake a double batch of chocolate cake the day they got done. Every Saturday and Sunday for a month they would get up and tell me they would be done today and I should bake the cake – then they would get another 8th of the yard done. Finally, when they only had a small amount of grass left I made the two batches of cake. We cut it up and put it on a couple of plates and gave it to them. I told them it would be nice to save their mother a piece and they all agreed it would be. I also suggested they save some for later – they didn’t have to eat it all now. But they did eat it all without ever leaving the porch. They saved nothing! Except the 2-year old who offered me his last smashed up bite in his hand which had slobber on it.

Phase 8 - what it looks like when they are done. (And John feeding the chickens)

We gave them 115 Pula. We asked what they were going to do with the money. The older brother said he was going to buy something for his little brother and the others said they were going to give it to the church. What they lack in work ethic they make up for in appetite and human goodness.

That picture was totally unauthorized!   Heads are gonna roll!   There may be ramifications……

John Favorite Rooster

RIP:  John’s favourite  chicken was dinner for the boys next door last night.  John started yelling at the boys for chasing the chicken and grabbing him by its feet and carrying it upside down.  They told him they were going to kill it for dinner that night.  John looked stricken.  I told him we could trade that chicken for the frozen bag of chicken in the freezer and the kids would be happy and he could keep his favourite rooster – but John let it go.  (Maybe less morning crowing).

Johns favorite chicken - head shot

The next morning there were a bunch of chicken feathers on the porch with a note saying.  “We know you liked that chicken and we are giving you these feathers to remember him.  Sorry we had to eat him.”

 The irony:  John has made friends with them during evening sunset feedings.  Before we started feeding them – they were all to skinny to eat.  He can’t give us the feedings! 

Gasoline:  Everyone in this country drives with no more than 1/8^th of a tank of gas.  We have heard from three different drivers  that they do that in case someone steals the car the thief will not be able to get  that far.

Beatings:  One of the teachers at school regularly brings 20 kids at a time into the teacher’s lounge.  They get whipped with the stick because they have not done their homework or have failed in their homework assignment.  One of girls told me she got beat even though she got a 73% (40% is failing).  I asked the teacher if that was true and she said she also beats the students who she knows could have done better.

Another teacher told me she punches the kids right in the face if they don’t do their homework – so the ones getting beat with the stick are spoiled. 

Geometry and Science:  I am now helping the students who get the beatings  do their homework.  I am so relieved I can still do 9^th grade geometry and Science – it fact – it is sort of easy for me.  (It seemed hard when I was in the 9^th grade).

More Tutoring:  I have been tutoring kids on the sidewalk outside the science lab during lunch and study halls because there are no class rooms available.  Today I asked the librarian if I could bring the students in to study and she said no.  She said the library is for teachers (who are mostly reading newspapers).

School Aid:  I wrote a grant request to get funds for a school newspaper the kids were very interested about creating.  The grant request was sent to the Ministry of Education under the Life Skills develop grants.  I was told students are really a part of the community and the grants are really for teachers.  They suggested I apply to the Ministry of Local Government since the students are more a part of the community than a part of the Ministry of Education.    

Church:  I found out how to get children to beg  to go to church.  If you leave them every night and every weekend to go to church– they will start begging to go to church too.  Thankfully, their mom took them to a weekend retreat with her this weekend.  The boys were all smiles when they got home. 

Priceless:  While walking across campus today I got three hugs and four “I love you’s” from good students who adore me.  They were also EXTREMELY excited to learn about the use of flashcards in studying. 

Different Meanings of English words in Botswana:

Auntie – any women older than your child that you are friends with (I am several children’s auntie here)

Chips – Fries

Finished – you have used something up.  Example:  The vinegar is finished

Geezer – hot water heater

General Dealer – small grocery store

eyeish – (accent on the Eye part) a sound made instead of cussing (They almost never cuss or use vulgarity here)

JoJo – large container that collects rain water and is used when clean drinking water is not available. 

Late – died.  Example – My dad is late. 

Learner – student

Now – any time in the near future within the next week

Now now – now

Pit Latrine – outhouse

Pressed – having  to pee real bad

Rubber – eraser.  I was quite amused the first time a learner asked me for a rubber in school.

Shabeen – a nasty concrete block bar that hundreds of men and maybe two women go to drink nasty cheap beer all day long starting at 7:30 AM

Sorry – something you say if someone falls or trips or hurts themselves – perhaps show sympathy.  (You would never use this word, or any word to apologize for anything)

That side – it is the only direction provided to everywhere you ask directions

What what – yada yada (shout out to Sienfield)

Training:  I have not written for a long time – I have been in training and more training – there seems to be no end to the training here.  I have been training 3.5 of my 6 months here.  Training is an art form in Botswana.  Ironically –the massive amount of training has resulted in a workforce that is highly unproductive and often has no idea how to get anything done.    

Culture Clash – Cultural difference gets harder to embrace and accept the deeper one get into a new culture.  Lately, I have been a part or a witness to many cultural clashes between PCV and Batswana people.  I hope this is happening because we are succeeding in our attempt to culturally immerse. 

It is easy to learn to say “hello”, and we all want to learn the language to be able to converse.  It is painless to dress like local people, and it is doable to slow down ones pace and walk at the same stride.  But after the first month, when we all feel good about how open we are – things start to get tough. 

I have always known the importance of words, but I never realized that our cultural behaviors will mirror the structure of our language.  It seems language is a construction of the way we want to show respect.  The Setswana language is about being instead of doing.  It has way fewer words than the English language.  Batswana are comfortable with silence.  There are no gender pronouns, just a person reference.  Tenses are not used often and you must depend on the context of the conversation to determine future, past or present.  Very few questions are asked, since questions seem to be confrontations or ways of making people have to speak or answer – be an individual.  Instead suggestions or directions are provided which makes it easy to know what to do. 

In Setswana there are many ways to greet people and greetings for multiple places and times of the day – and it is important to use the greetings correctly.  The language is built around addressing community rituals and acknowledging people wholly and completely with all due respect to one’s place in the tribe.  Many English speakers call this a command language – and I think the analogy is slightly off.  It may seem like a command language because, there are few “pleases” and “thank you’s” and there are many directions– but I think it is the way they show honor to their culture and their way of respecting elders and putting the community significantly before any individual.  Young people are not allowed to decide if they should do as an elder asks – they must do it.  So why ask a question and allow them to think there is a choice? 

This county made English its second official language when it got its independence (1966). All government and educational institutions communicate in English.  If a Motswana wants a good job he/she will learn to speak English fluently – but he/she will not speak it like Europeans or Americans – and I don’t mean the sounds or cadence.  I mean they will not speak English with the same culture we do – and it causes a lot of hard feelings.

It just seems so rude to say, “Get me a pencil” instead of “Can you please bring me a pencil”, or “Do you know where the pencils are? – OK.  Thank you”. They will say “Move to that chair” instead of, “I really wanted to sit next to my counterpart – would you mind moving down one?  Thank you”.  And there is never ever a please or a thank you. 

I know Batswana think Americans are very rude when we don’t’ use the proper greeting and especially if we start talking without the ritual three sentences or so that are supposed to go with the greeting to make sure each person in his/her family is really fine.  They also think we are very belligerent when we ask questions in meetings/public places – especially if the person does not know the answer (which is often). They can’t believe we persist in trying to get information in these public settings! 

When any two people start off thinking someone is “just rude” it is much harder to get to a good cultural exchange.  And the language problem is just the start.

American’s become upset when Batswana don’t embraced diversity as we do – we seem to only be willing to engage if they will meet us halfway – even though it is their county!  We are outraged that they don’t express thanks and gratitude as we do.  It is maddening and makes us behave very badly that they don’t strive for the efficiently of time as we do.  We demand that each person be treated as an individual – even though this population thrives on community and not individuality.  And it is extremely difficult to believe any culture would or should be content to be poor and for their children to be poor. 

I see Americans feel sorry for young teens and tweens that are caring for younger brothers and sisters when I also know the teen loves the responsibility and enjoys being given an important family role. 

American’s are very angry that there is little respect for the young, and a great deal of respect for the elders.  We constantly call them ageist (which they think is bizarre). I think many cultures work this way and America is rather unique in its worship of youth. 

I see my fellow Americans get angry that this county is 30 – 50 years behind America in providing equity to all people (women, children, minority tribes, homosexuals) and this frustration is often  taken out on the Batswana trying to effect the changes that took 200 years plus for America to achieve (and not entirely by a long shot). 

I am struggling with a culture that always takes in family but then disregards that person.  The women next door is supporting two brothers, three children, and one nephew, ages 16 to 2.  However, she is never home, because she is at church – every night and all weekend.  I often take care of these children’s needs.  Nobody here seems to think she should be home taking care of the kids. Instead they place the value on her giving them a home since it is expected the people in the village will help raise the children.  I keep wishing there was a DCFS to call.

One of the things I really like about this place is that every single human being is treated with the respect of being a human being.  It is almost a classless society.  Homelessness does not really exist – family will take you in, no matter what.  There are no “good” neighborhoods or “bad” neighborhoods.  Rich and poor live side by side.  Everyone is given courtesy and respect. 

I have seen the most ragged, poor, unbathed person approach someone perfectly groomed in a suit – and the suit will listen, talk and respond to the person in a respectful and equitable way, especially if the person is older. 

Old and poor people are allowed to enter and sit with honor at any and all formal events.  There is no list at the door to say who is worthy of entry.  Elders get the good seats and young fill in the middle and back.

The only people I have seen turned away are those that are publicly drunk – and even then there is usually respectful interaction.  Mentally ill people are also allowed to take part in public events until they become completely disruptive and then they are kindly and gently distracted to the sidelines. 

Every single person in Botswana has free health care.  While many African counties are dealing with massive health system failures and early death due to AIDS – Botswana is providing free ARV’s for all persons who need ARV’s after they become infected with HIV. 

This county also provides 10 years of free education to children.  If the child has high enough test scores he/she is entitled to a free education through the completion of a university degree. 

Land is available for the asking (although not always in the place desired). 

All that seems so good – but………..

Unemployment is very high (50%).  The education system is not very good (40% is a passing grade).  The government is floundering and filled with inane pointless bureaucracy.  This is a socialistic society where people don’t have to work, and they are content enough with very little.  Competition is considered rude and ambition is exhausting.  There is little commerce.  Everyone is too “tired” to work.  There is little direction and individuals do not think about what the future holds for them – they seem content to live in their village and have the same life their family has had for decades.  There still are many poor people who are subsistence living with help from the government. 

In my younger days I would have rejoiced in finding this Botswana “human” approach to life.  However, I also see what the lack of money, direction, hope, or desire can do to a society.  I can’t help but feel it is bad. 

I see crass competition for money and goods has led to many good things in America.  We have businesses that run, government that is accessible and understandable (believe me – it is compared to this), education systems that provide meaningful information to succeed, a relatively low unemployment rate, and people with energy and drive.  We believe we must take care of ourselves first, before we can help other people.  To me, it seems to work so well.  We have so many nice things and so many accomplishments.  Despite our hard work, or more appropriately because of our hard work, our lives are so much easier!  I can hardly believe everyone would not want this.  In fact – many many many people tell me they want to come to America and live in America.

Despite their stated wish to live in America,  Batswana could not abide by the cold and calculated decision to allow fellow human beings who cannot or will not work to suffer.  They would not allow a brother or a cousin to be homeless.  They would not tolerate people dying from lack of health care.  They do not like confrontation – and will not communicate with you if you require accountability.  They don’t think we should be burdened with “hard work”. They believe in community and in sharing – in a socialist communal living arrangement. 

People in Botswana talk of “being free”.  It is not the political sort of freedom we may imagine when we discuss how our freedom/democracy allows us to succeed.  “Being free” here means you have no burdens, no worries, and no commitments – because the village will take care of it – as long as you have a drink of water and a cup of rice everything is fine for the day. 

I want so badly to be able to understand the benefits of this culture – but I can’t help but think they should see the benefits of mine and they should want what I want (education, money, flexibility, efficacy, hope, ambition and control of time) – a different kind of freedom – a freedom which gives me a choice and allows me to choose how I want to live my life.

My inability to succeed in my wish to see the benefits of this culture is uncomfortable for now – hopefully I will get better and better at the cultural immersion and me and them will both find something good to carry the rest of lives from the others culture.

Friday Night Highlights – by JM

Here we are, 11:00 pm on Friday night, having a low key late night alone.  The weather is cool outside and about 85 inside.   As we sit here, we are thinking of something fun we could do this evening and it comes into our thoughts:  The Chickens.   Those little bastards that wake us up at 4:00 am each morning.  

So, we decide to put on our headlamps and go feed the little #$*&*&#$*.     

They hear us coming.  Mostly because they know instinctually that anyone who comes from our direction comes bringing gifts.    When we throw out the rotten tomatoes and the other scraps of food they lazily move from their comfortable perches to investigate what new foods they are being afforded.   They thoroughly enjoy the tomato seeds and the mango skins, and try to avoid choking down the onion skins that are mixed in.  They move slowly, as if in total distain of having been woken up in the middle of the night.  We feel slightly guilty.

Nevertheless, we have a good laugh with the excitement of having woken them all up, hopefully out of a great chicken dream.    It is our infrequent moment of revenge, and we enjoy the night thoroughly!  Maybe they won’t start their miserable morning serenade until  6:00 am tomorrow.