Memorial Day

A moment to remember one aspect of Memorial Day. Thank you to all the men and women who serve our Nation, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow,
Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scare heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Major John McCrae
published 8 December 1915

Home Sweet Home

The last leg of my trip, Amsterdam to JFK, was canceled as a result of volcanic ash. The Amsterdam airport was closed (I believe for 5 or so hours) so many flights were canceled or delayed. I was able to get a seat on the first flight to JFK as the planes resumed flying. It was a movie worthy scene -- check to see if there was a seat, yes? no? maybe? find old boarding pass --- need to see passport --- seat available, maybe? Hand off to another KLM service rep, who then needed to review with her supervisor, and yes, there is a seat!!! Thank you KLM staff! Pack up my stuff (I'd been sitting for hours) and dash across the airport to gate. I think I was second to last through boarding/security. But, I had a seat on a plane heading to the USA. The twinkling lights of NYC were beautiful as the flight landed about 8:30. My own bed and pillow were wonderful, but my own shower was even better! Home Sweet Home.

Cape Town Highlights

Finished my trip with several days in Cape Town. It is a lovely city, easy to navigate (as a tourist) with rich cultural diversity and so much to do. The hotel was located at the waterfront and was convenient for beginning a day of fun. A "Hop On-Hop Off" bus tour was a great way to see the highlights of Cape Town before choosing places to explore more closely. The city is the the bowl of three mountains and wherever you look, Table Mountain dominates the vista. At the base of Table Mountain, looking back over the city to the ocean, the majesty of the mountain puts everything into perspective. The drive to the Cape of Good Hope and the mystical merge of the Atlantic and Indian Ocean was breathtaking - coming back into city at sunset provided miles of changing views - one more lovely than the previous one.

Rich with history, I saw the 4 Nobel Peace Prize winners monument, the Cape Town Jewish museum, the benches that are labeled "White Only" and "Black Only" that remain as a public reminder among other points of interest. Sampled a variety of local wines and beers, sought out fresh fish, local music and one of my favorites, the penguins. The colony that are in the picture numbers more than 3,000. They are very cute!

World Cup Fever has gripped the city And it seems everyone has a soccer connection....large TV viewing areas have been set up so that EVERYONE will be able to watch the South African teams. And if you don't know when the games begin -- there are clocks everywhere that are counting down the days - hours - minutes - seconds! A nation with a great deal of pride that they are the host nation of this event.

Just saying good bye. . .

My daughter pointed out that this time, I am the one leaving her. She is right in many ways. I am leaving her, her home, her country. Lesotho is her home. For now. I am also leaving a remarkable woman to continue her work of choice. At some point, she will return to the USA ---- but for now, she has more to do here.

As I have learned over the past few weeks, the woman I am leaving here is still my daughter but so much more. I will spare you (and her) the details, but if I was proud of her when she left in November, 2008, I am ten times prouder today.

Books! Books! Books!

I was able to visit three of the more that 50 schools that my daughter is involved with. At the first, Hololo,I was presented a traditional Besotho blanket and hat. Bright eyes and big smiles greeted me as the children gathered around to see the principal of the school, my daughter's host mother, wrap the blanket around me and welcome me to Lesotho, her village, and her school.

At the second site, Muela, the children danced and read in my honor. Three students were chosen to read from books in the new library. Who Am I? The Magic Locket and Black Beauty. Carefully and with pride, the students read aloud to me. What a delight. Later we were served coffee in the library.

The road into the third school defies description. Far beyond being a dirt road, it was also deeply rutted, rock strewn, narrow (this is a curvy, dipping mountain road - MOUNTAIN - road with no barriers between a car on the road and a car several hundred of feet off the road, down the side of the mountain) and we were driving on the left side of the road. Maybe, in time, acclimation to the road surfaces would ease my fear but it was a long hour. Usually, my daughter walks 3 1/2 hours to Tsime school. ONE WAY. She travels across fields,streams, through villages, up and down the mountain and along the same road we drove. I guess that journey puts my journey into perspective. She did say my reaction was like when she was 16 and learning to drive: my symphony of sounds as I sighed, gripped the seat, closed my eyes, reached for the e-brake and added a bass drum as my foot tried to slow the car -- pumping imaginary brake. As if it would help! My daughter didn't even blink!

People from the whole community turned out to celebrate my visit to Tsime. I was humbled by the hundreds of faces waiting for our arrival. The principal introduced me as Ma Mpho - meaning Gift. What a wonderful name. When we arrived, lunch with traditional foods was waiting for us. Papa (maize meal), moroho (rape or any green like spinach or lettuce - put in a pot, with oil and salt), pumpkin and a piece of boiled chicken. A lace tablecloth was laid over a desk before our plates were laid down. Traditional dances, in full attire, were preformed by the boys and girls. Even the mothers danced. Mixed in the dancing were short speeches. The village chief spoke about a day in village history when the school received a library. He called my daughter a hero for facilitated the library project. A student spoke about how happy he was to have so many books at his school. The principal and teachers spoke with joy about the work that my daughter has done. Then one of the mothers spoke. Her genuine gratitude and joy was touching witness to the value placed on the establishment of the library. At the end of several hours, the mothers presented my daughter and I with a collection of gifts: traditional baskets, vessels, bowls, food, Lesotho hats, a woven mat and a cow horn lamp. I was overwhelmed by the generosity of the women: they have so little and yet, shared their day (many of them had walked 1-2 hours to be at the school), their joy, their music and themselves with me. Our common bond was our children....mine and theirs.

Darkness

Imagine living in a world that is defined by the rising and setting of the sun? As the children play with Legos (I brought several bags of Lego bricks, people, horses, boats - the favorites were a helicopter and a motorbike!) on the floor of my daughter's rondavel in the waning daylight, she begins to knead dough to bake herb bread for dinner. I look at her wall of notes, cards and pictures from family and friends. She works until it is almost completely dark before she lights candles to illuminate her home. She switches on her "kitchen light" - a solar flashlight inverted above her stove, as the bread bakes. We eat by candlelight and then, darkness.

As my daughter puts the scraps from dinner out for the dogs, I stand in the doorway and look out. There is no light, except for the veil of stars that covers the sky as far as I can see. I see the Milky Way, the Southern Cross, the Seven Sisters and Mars. Thousands and thousands and thousands of stars light the night sky and provide all that I need right now.

Inside her rondavel, it is pitch black. There is absolutely no light. I can't even make out the shape of my own hand in front of me. Without being able to see anything, I lie in bed and listen. It is 7:00 PM. YES, 7 PM. The day is ending for everyone. The sound of footsteps outside, the pig that moves around in the maize, a donkey. And the dogs that bark and provide a sense of security.

In the early morning, the first glimpse of dawn's light seeps through the slit in the curtain. Pale, at first, but as the sun rises over the tall mountains, bright sunlight washes over the land and another day begins.

Home Sweet Home

It is incredibly difficult for me to describe to you my initial impression of my daughter's home. Her village consists of approximately 1,000 people and her family compound is 5 buildings. About 20 people live there. Her rondavel is larger than I expected, cement blocks, thatch roof, cement floor cover with black and white checkerboard linoleum. She has two large windows covered with curtains of colorful African material. Simply furnished, bed, small table and 4 chairs, a wardrobe and kitchen cabinets for storage (basic furnishings from the Peace Corps). My daughter has added a bookcase (which is filled with book and games for the children in her family, and such) as well as another chair. But, she has made it her home -- the walls are covered with cards, notes, and pictures that she has received in the mail. There are large maps which show where she has been and where she is going! A colorful 23rd birthday collage created by her PC friends. Tibetan prayer flags. She has rigged a light above her 2 burner gas stove .... a solar flashlight. It really works!

Outside her front door, Samson, her dog and two others keep watch. The buildings are close together (two of the rondavels are made from a mud/dirt mix). Shortly after we arrive, her family starts to come home; the children from school and her Me, Ma Senyarella [mother] is excited to meet me. She is the principal of the local school.
The children are beautiful, independent, and after a few minutes seem comfortable to meet my daughter's mother, Me MaThato (mother of beloved).

And the family livestock was coming home also...the herd boy brings them back as evening falls (cows, sheep, and goats). Joining in with the pig, five new puppies, chickens and roosters....home sweet home.

Lesotho

Sunday (Mother's Day 2010) I arrived in Lesotho on Mother's Day with my daughter. As she said, I was with "the best gift - her!!" A typical comment from her -- some things do not change. We traveled from Zanzibar to Johannesburg on Saturday afternoon. We arrived too late to make the last flight to Bloemfontein SA so we stayed at the Southern Sun hotel. Feeling a bit weary and with an early flight, we ordered room service and watched movies!

Landing at the Bloem airport on Sunday was a treat. Another airport finishing up work for the arrival of thousands due to the World Cup next month, it was easy - walk across the tarmac, into the airport and then to the car rental area ... there were 8 companies represented including Hertz. Within a few minutes, we were in a silver car (similar to a KIA) and driving toward the border of Lesotho. After several hours of driving, we crossed the border. All the paperwork at the border was smooth as my daughter spoke Sesotho to everyone. As a traveler, being able to greet and understand basic conversation is a good thing. I think most of the people we encountered were caught off guard that my (white) daughter could converse with them.
As we drive North through Lesotho, the landscape begins to change. The flat, arid land of SA gives way to the seasonal views of Lesotho. We were headed toward the tall mountains in the distance, but first, there were all the signs of autumn to enjoy. Trees with golden leaves (not as colorful as a New England maple but seasonal colors nonetheless); fields of maize that was brown, cool air, and such. With tall mountains in the distance, the land is stunning.
Driving into Butha Buthe camptown (the capital of Butha Buthe district), passing through several random police checks -- at which you stop, chit-chat/greet one another, and maybe, the policeman will ask to look at a license. When they ask for a license, they don't really know what they are looking at. My daughter could have handed them her Loyola ID card and they would not know the difference. But, again, she was able to chat with all of them. At one check, she gave the man her license and he asked her "Do you have a boyfriend." She politely flirted until she got her passport back and then proceeded to tell him that she would never have a boyfriend because men are "matata" [means worries]. The man laughed.

Marinating

To borrow a term from one of my daughter's PC friends, we finished the days in Zanzibar
by marinating. That is, relaxing. On Thursday, a heavy storm blew in and it rained until late in the afternoon. At one point, I asked a member of the staff if it was going to rain all day (there was no TV/radio to check the local forecast) and she told me it was a "long rain" and that was an apt description. But, I was sitting under thatched bar/lounge space, reading, sipping a rum drink, listening to the rain, and that was fine. By dinnertime, the rain had stopped. The usual outdoor space for dinner was very wet, so we moved to the upper open air restaurant for dinner. We each had a different local beer with dinner - Tusker, Kilimanjaro, and Safari. Jimmy flew home on Friday; my daughter and I left on Saturday. We flew from Zanzibar to Johannesburg. Zanzibar was a lovely spot to visit and a chance to really talk with my daughter and catch up on some of the small conversations that I have missed over the past 18 months.

Stone Town

Wednesday One aspect of Stone Town is the historical significance as the eastern point of departure for slaves to Portugal, Britain and Arabic countries. To preserve the actual ground of the slave market, an Anglican church was erected over the spot. In the church, a circular marble design on the low altar marks where the whipping post was located and a table on the side of the altar is made from the stone that the slaves stood upon when they were sold. Behind the high altar the Anglican Bishop who worked for decades to end the practice of slavery is buried. David Livingston was also involved in the work to end slavery; his descends donated the decorative lead glass windows in the church. Dr. Livingston so loved Africa, that when he died, at his request, his heart was removed and is buried under a tree in Africa. His body was then sent back to England for burial.

We walked down the dark narrow stairway to the dungeon. Before the actual slave auction, the men and women (and children) were separated and held up to four days without food or water. This was a method to weed out the strong from the weak. We sat in the women’s side - it would have held about 75 women and numerous children in a space about the size of an average bathroom. But only half the height. Three 12 slits in the wall offered the only air and light. I was overwhelmed sitting there - the space was unimaginable. Can you imagine the fear in that space?

Spice Tour

Wednesday We took a tour of a spice plantation. Originally, most of the land was owned by the sultans, but after unrest in the late 1960s, land was returned to the local people. The spice plantation we visited is owned by 7-9 families, they work the land, do the tour and maintain a small selection of spices for sale. It was fascinating to see the variety of spices and fruit grown in a small space. With no equipment - no tractors or trucks. All the land is worked by hand and simple tools. There is no formal planting (as in rows of corn or tomato plants). Rather ever bit of land it used and nothing goes to waste. We saw ginger, vanilla, pepper, star fruit, turmeric, coconut, rice, coffee, orange, avocado, the lipstick tree, cloves to name a few. At the end of the tour, a young boy, about 12, climbed to the top of a coconut palm tree (at least 75 feet). He shimmied his way up, the only tool he used was a loop of coconut leaves, woven into a rope like structure to hold his feet together. Up he went, singing and entertaining us as we watched! He cut off three coconuts that fell at our feet.. A few minutes later, they were cut open for us and we drank. From the leaves, we each left with a hat/crown as well as a tie and two necklaces that featured a diminutive frog. A fine lesson in eating local!!

Pictures

I am still finding it difficult to post pictures here. If you have access to Facebook there are more than 100 photos in an album titled "Jambo" thanks to my daughter! Or click on the link here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2035957&id=1476623664&l=8858b4c3f2

First Impressions

MONDAY As we drive the hour from the airport to the resort, I am taken back by the obvious poverty. Along the roadway, there are tiny structures, stores. I see everything imaginable: food, old TVs, old refrigerators, plastic buckets, cooking stands, jewelry, sneakers, toilets and sinks, wood, cement blocks .... anything one might need. The housing, mixed in with the stores, is crowded and tiny. One or two rooms, tin roof or thatched roof, built with wood and mud. If the family has a bit of money, a plaster like substance is added so it looks cement block. (By the way, a thatched roof will last about 4 years - depending on weather conditions). At one point, stopped at a corner, I watch children playing in and around a muddy waterhole edged by several feet of garbage. The little children, perhaps 3-6, jump in, on and around the garbage as they play a game. No toys, I only see a broken bicycle frame (no tires) but the children are smiling as they run around with one another. My first impression - it is as sad and disturbing as any picture/documentary I've ever seen but made real by the voices, the smell of diesel as the buses wait to load 2 dozen people into space meant for 10-12 people (as well as the cargo and animals on top), and the smell of a fire as food is cooking.

I see several women dressed in a full burka. Ebony black material. Only a slit for the eyes. Lost individuality - nothing to identify who is under the black cloth. I wonder how one retains anything of their self if there is nothing visible to distinguish oneself. Even a soft voice is muffled by the cloth. My daughter offers another consideration: what if the identical dress actually adds to identity. One must dismiss outside looks and search for true identity, what is inside a person.

Tanzania to Zanzibar

MONDAY We travel from Tanzania to Zanzibar today. Begin the morning "in a cloud" as my daughter describes it; we are at 7500 feet and as the clouds envelop our lodge, there is a complete white out. Gently, the breeze disperses the clouds and the magnificent view returns. From my lodge balcony, I watch Maasi herders move their cattle, sheep, and goats to higher ground for the day. The men are tall and slim, dress in bright colored cloth, most often red, and carry a long walking stick. A jangle of a cow bell is the only sound I hear as I watch them move along the path. In the mist of the clouds, it is almost a surreal picture - something from a different time. Yet, I've seen Maasi men and women using cell phones as they wait along the road for the local bus to take them up/down the mountain. As the Maasi tribes were established at Ngorongoro centuries before it became a tourist attraction/World Heritage site, they are allowed to still inhabit the land as they do not kill the wild animals. They are herders and farmers and wanderers.

Our 2 o'clock flight to Zanzibar is canceled: we were the only people on it. So, we were transfered to a 3 o'clock flight...there is something to be said for small airports. Our bags went on a old packing scale ... white faced dial with a black hand. Our three bags were fine and were wheeled out to the tarmac to wait loading. The shift from one airline to another took about 1 minute: boarding passes were printed and then, we went to wait. Sitting outside, under a shade cover, we watched our plane land about 100 yards from us, a stairway was wheeled out and the bags were unloaded. When we were called, we walked through security and our bags were checked (we all lost our water bottles) but did not have to take off our shoes!! The flight is one hour to the island of Zanzibar.

Animals Animals Animals

Someone asked for a list of animals that we saw . . . camel, African elephant, Massi giraffe, water buffalo, impala, Kirk's Dik Dik (smallest impala) storks (100s of them resting at the tops of trees), hippos, great white pelicans, wildebeests, bush bucks, wart hogs, tortoise, waterbuck, common zebra, unstriped ground squirrel, superb starlings, red headed barbet, pied crows, termites and massive termite hills, blue monkey, black face velvet monkey, baboons (olive), striped skink, the rare black rhino, Grants gazelles, Thomson's gazelles, Cokes Hartabeest, cheetah, jackal, lions, hyenas, guinea fowl, flamingos, Egyptian goose. We also saw the Crown Crane which is the national bird of Uganda, and several other birds such as the blacksmith plover, black kite, an eagle (eating road kill - a hyena), vultures, and the kori busterd. At one point, a male kori busterd was in full plumage trying to attract the attention of a female. She kept moving away from him but he was persistent! In addition we saw cattle, sheep and goats being herded as well as cattle, sheep and goats wandering the streets, malnourished dogs, and thousands of loose chickens.

As for trees: baobab tree, flat topped acacia, whistling acacia, flame tree (red; the bloom resembles a burning candle), coconut palms, aloe trees, and yellow candle bush. The color of the blooms on plants, shrubs, and trees is vibrant, deep and rich.

Last picture for now ...

I contemplated what picture to post last ... me, in a safari hat and vehicle or this elegant creature nibbling in the middle of the afternoon. For now, the giraffe won the contest. Although, the picture of me might still show up ....I am sharing some of my wonder of this trip with you and the fact that I am in Africa is still a wonder to me!

Although the technology is here, the amount of time to post these pictures has been a study in patience for me! A late afternoon shower is coming; can feel the air changing. It was very hot and muggy today, so the rain will feel good.

Another picture ....

Gerard's decision not to turn around afforded the opportunity to see this rare black rhino. Although, not as large as a white rhino, it does look like something from prehistoric times. Despite its size, it can run very fast for a short time. This was the unexpected treat of the day!

One picture at a time . . .

Common Zebra . . .are they white with brown stripes or brown with white stripes? (in this picture it looks as if the stripes are black; viewing them, the stripes are brown.)

A picture or two...I hope!

Olive baboons. We saw many of them and had to keep our windows closed at certain stops because they will enter a vehicle looking for food.

The Circle of Life

At the Ngorogoro Crater, a World Heritage site, the number of cars allowed into the Crater is restricted to protect the environment and each car is only allowed to stay for 24 hours (including over night in a lodge or at a campsite). It is a remarkable thing to observe a cheetah, just the top of its head and ears visible in the tall grass, watch a group of impalas...and not move. In the distance are five lions, two males lying down and three females walking near them. If the cheetah attacks one of the impalas, it won't get to enjoy the kill; the lions will. Even though they didn't do the work, they will enjoy the dinner. I don't know what the rules are, but the animals seem to understand. For hours, we watched animals move together; walking , eating, resting, drinking ....if hungry (or perhaps frightened or injured), they will attack one another. But in the meantime, enemies coexist near one another. Just a part of the circle of life.

Many hours later, when we completed the loop of the floor of the crater, before we began to drive up the ascent road, the cheetah was still in the tall grass. Watching.

The road was beyond description: minimal maintenance means the drive is an adventure in itself. The descent/ascent takes more than an hour on a road that is barely wider than the vehicle we are in, with curves so tight that the term "hairpin turns" was redefined for me. (Made our trip up Mt. Washington almost look like a piece of cake!) But on the floor of the crater, the road is wide enough for two vehicles to pass and often, as the drivers pass one another, they share two bits of information: what animals they have observed and road conditions. In the quest to have a rare view of a black rhino (sometimes people will be there a week and not see one), Gerard n(our driver/guide) faced a deep mud hole and a decision. Go forward or go back. He brought our vehicle to a stop and contemplated the tire tracks, the water, the mud and I am not sure what else .... then he decided to go for it. We made it through, but not until the muddy water reached the top of the tires and the car pitched sharply right. I thought the car was going to land on its right side, but it didn't. A bit later, we saw the black rhino. Paying no attention to us, it crossed the road within 10 feet of our car. It was worth the mud!

It is difficult to post pictures (it takes a long time) but I am going to try to add a few. Someone asked what animals I saw and I will post the list next,

Mother Love

At midnight, there is a knock on the door . . . "Room Service" my daughter calls out. I finally get to hug her! I won't lie - it feels wonderful to have her close. It's a short visit ... everyone is exhausted.

On Saturday, we drive to Lake Manyara. The African land captures the soul. Some of the animals we saw: giraffes, elephants, baboons waterbuck, Kirk's dik dik (smallest gazelle), hundreds of storks in the trees, impalas, blue monkey, velvet monkey, and large lizards. At one point, we could not travel any further. A pair of elephants were in the road, protecting a baby elephant. Several Land Cruisers were stopped; the elephants were protecting the little one as it ate its fill of foliage. As one car tried to pass, the elephants turned and moved further into the road. No one was getting any closer to that baby. Nature won this battle, In time, the little one moved off the road and the adults slowly followed.

It doesn't matter how old they are; once your baby always your baby! Mothers just do what they must, to protect their babies. Yesterday, after my daughter traveled 22 hours by herself , I insisted that her father walk her to her room (which was next door) to make sure she got in safely. What can I say .... its my daughter!

Eye-to-Eye with the Moon

In the early morning hours of Friday morning, the trip map on the plane indicates that we are about to cross over Ireland. I look out my rectangular porthole window and I am eye-to-eye with the moon. Or so it seems cruising at 32,000 feet. The full moon illuminates the white landscape: we are layered between rippling clouds that stretch as far as I can see.

On the second plane, from Amsterdam to Kilimanjaro, I am excited to see my daughter. I can't sleep so I watch 3 movies. (we are in the air for more than 8 hours). Precious, Lovely Bones, It's Complicated. Quite the selection, I know. When we land, it is 8:06 pm, the walk across the tarmac is hot and muggy. As we wait in line to get a visa in Tanzania, I turn on my phone (it has been shut off for the 8 hours we were in the air). A message from my daughter appears "missed my flight ....ha ha. Be there at 23oo." At first I thought it was a joke -- it is the kind of joke that she would do. I just knew she would be on the other side of the door as we walked through customs. But, she did miss her flight. It would be 4 more hours until I get to hug my daughter.