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.

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.

This is the view I will share with my daughter in Lesotho.