Hashing in Country Number Three (Updated)

In an effort to find something enjoyable in Shanghai, I again pursued the H3. I miss Lesotho. There are a lot of features to miss, but mostly I miss the expat community. They usually found themselves at one time or regularly hiking with the local chapter of the Hash House Harriers. We attended most every weekend.

This one runs a little differently. I found myself in the circle on the second hike reminding both of my children that "what is said on the hash, stays at the hash." The double entendres are singularly risqué. And oh boy, the vocabulary is more than earmuffs can handle. It is a good thing that the kind soul corresponding with me via email pointed me towards the most family friendly chapter of the six in town. Note to self: I have to remember to fine my son at the next meeting for interrupting dinner with, "time to grease the beer ayi!"(translation: time for the beer bitches or booze master to take a drink)

Hunting Zebra in South Africa

The story of the zebra often comes up in conversation. Hunting is not considered one of the three deadly conversations, but is more controversial. Everyone kind of wants to know about hunting in southern Africa, but very few people want the details. You won't get the Henry Morton Stanley version here. It is just not something I can explain, I am not an adequate writer. In truth, the depth of the story changes on my relationship with the person listening, though I never exaggerate the shooting distance. No hunter ever would. 

For those who are looking to hunt African game, there are many venues. Whether you are looking for the colonial African experience, bragging rights, or your own room decor, there is a place for you in South Africa. A bit embarrassing to declare, that I myself upon entering Africa had a bit of the colonialist view. This view came from the limited history taught in school and books that I had read. Though my view changed during my two years there, there were still some boxes deep in my brain that needed to be checked to complete the experience. 

Friends had developed a relationship with a hunter near Kimberly, Roelof Foerie. Roelof patiently put up with the constant changes to the hunting party, billing issues, and other nonsense from us Americans. He provided the equipment, location, and accommodation for the trip. It was a memorable experience made better with his expert knowledge. 

Over two days the group walked or trucked the grasslands tracking animals on the list: zebra, blesbock, and impala. Our group of three was broken apart, paired with expert hunters and trackers. The hours of wandering the tall grasses in the hot sun provided intimate teaching sessions on the behavior and environment of these and other animals. 

We chased the massive herd of zebra for a while. The herd heard or maybe smelled us coming and charged away. Only those that have experience with herds of animals can appreciate the feeling of their pounding hooves vibrating up through your feet. Or if you have seen The Lion King, you may get the idea. 

Why not brag if you have the right? I was the first to get my prize that weekend and also a big, celebratory kiss from Roelof as the first woman ever to successfully hunt.  Roelof was as proud as I was. See his site for more information. http://www.roeloffouriesafaris.com/gallery_discription.php?id=216. 

The experience provided a deep freeze packed full of meat: ribs, sausage, loins, steaks, legs, everything you can imagine and a lot you don’t want to. I surely could not imagine what was inside those three coolers the first time I opened them. My ambitious, but ultimately failed attempts at butchering and curing were laughable. Picture me in my apron, wrapped in plastic holding my best kitchen knife while surrounded by three animals worth of meat in the garage. Oh yeah, this is not going to happen.

Good thing I am a better cook. The zebra steak, braised, was lovely served with a deep, chocolaty wine. I made it a couple of ways, but don’t remember them all. I should have taken more pictures.

The rug was a challenge. Getting it done in time for the move was an issue. Paying for it was another. The exchange of money was an issue in South Africa and Lesotho. I had to time my deposits with trips to OR Tambo because there were no branch offices for his bank in Ladybrand and the Lesotho branches do no talk to their South African counterparts. Ultimately, everything worked out the week before packout.

Only a few people thought I would be able to pull the trigger and I wasn't so sure myself. The still unnamed zebra mare lies on the floor by my desk. A little conversation piece for when parties are slow. She provides a topic when I need to crow about my cooking or prowess with a gun and a good laugh when I think of my hunting mates that weekend. "Oh, it is on!"

Pretty big rug. Not sure if the face mask was a good idea, but I like the mane.  Now where to put her?  Don't want a lot of foot traffic or wine spills damaging the hair. 

HHE arrives!

Our stuff has arrived! It is like Christmas in our house. UAB and HHE arrived on the same day, exactly two weeks after we arrived in Shanghai.

Much of this stuff we haven't seen in more than a year. How exciting to get items I forgot I loved. Found my black, lace-up boots. I do love them so. How exciting to get items I totally forgot I owned. Wine! The most exciting items are unexpected. The discovery of a Sharpie caused me to run screaming through the house. I have not found the equivalent marker in Shanghai and thus not able to do important things like label the kid's school clothes. There is so much I can now do with my trusty black Sharpie!

Our last post took much longer. The UAB arrived after 5 weeks and the HHE was another 3. The difference may be in management or the strategic location. One is a port city, and the other was an inland country that required customs at multiple ports of entry. Not believing that our shipments were really coming, I had shopped for essentials just days before. My lack of faith cost an untold sum and provided us with unneeded additional pens, folders, towels, Tupperware, and hats to name a few items.

Just like Christmas, roughly a ¼ of the items unwrapped are shit. What were we thinking saving some of this: torn sheets, the bedroom set that was left in Lesotho, but the bed skirt shipped; shoes; bags; extra clothes; all those broken items I said that I would one day fix, and chipped dishes now fill a “give away” box in the hallway. I would like to purge so much more, especially all the paper, paper, paper! The boxes of art conservation supplies are again packed and stored in the shed. I never need those at post, but did need them in the DC, the one place I didn’t have them.

We could open a stationery store with all the pads of paper and envelopes we have. What possessed us to buy so much? Boxes are piled next to the desk; the shelves can’t hold it all. The staggering quantity of stuff makes me sad. We don’t need much of this; we want it. Seven throws, a plethora of knickknacks, and every kitchen device possible, all stand as reminders of our privileged, middle class household. It is particularly hard to look at our excesses laid out on the floor when the Ayi cleaning that floor has so little.

I celebrate an early Boxing Day as I repack the items that need to be returned to the house in the States, and box up the items that await the next post. On this day I am thankful not to make my returns to a busy store, but feel the same family guilt.  Just like Christmas, HHE makes me ecstatic and depressed (and a bit drunk!) all at the same time.

Packing Out

It seems so simple. One pile for luggage, one pile to live on for a year (UAB), one pile shipping directly to the next destination (HHE), one pile to give away. Life and possessions sorted into four piles.

The hard part is deciding what we will need for one year. This is supposed to be a small pile, smallish. If i really think about it, what I need for a year should be what I need forever. So does that mean that my HHE pile should be non-existent, or that the UAB pile needs to be bigger? I want to scream, "It's my industrial strength hair dryer and I can't live without it!"

My husband and I have different views. He comes from long line of pack rats, so he can't help himself from storing everything. I would like to be a minimalist (ie bike, clothes, make-up, electronics). Who can't live with just those things? Is there anything that is not easy to buy in DC?

The kids have sorted their books and toys. With just those two, I think we hit our weight category. I tried to explain how awesome libraries are in the States, but they didn't believe me. They did a good job though of letting things go. We will see how well they handle giving items away, when it comes to actually handing those things off. I must defend them and point out that the first shipment of books to the American International School went very well.

Good Bye Lesotho. Good Bye Basotho. Good Bye Bo-peeps.

Looking at the 250 people gathered to celebrate the Fourth of July at the Embassy I thought about leaving Lesotho. I stood at the back of the crowd and mentally said good-bye to each of my friends. I said good-bye to H as she dropped her papers while listening to the speech. I said good-bye to everyone.  Time to walk away.

We talked about having a good-bye party. Just three families and we could not agree on the party, happy hour with kids or late night with dancing. We all needed something different to leave. I know what is best for me, walking away. No reason to say good-bye really, people I care about will keep in touch one way or another, maybe we even see each other in a far off place and time.

Just made my last batch of ice cream for the next two and a half years. The ice cream maker is gong to Moscow. There are lots of good ice cream shops in the States, I don’t need to bring it along. I will share it with friends at their going away party.

Saw H again Thursday evening and made arraignments to say good-bye to her dog. Not her, didn’t need to, already said good-bye to her from afar.  For anyone in Lesotho reading this bog, “Good-bye”. I love you and will miss you. Would prefer to give everyone a true hug, American style, not the two or three cheek kiss thing that I frequently botch. Know that I care, but I am not going to seek everyone out.

How will the kids learn to say good-bye to places and friends? The question is immediately followed by another, “Are we totally f-ing them up for life?”

The 2012 Christmas Card Part 3

In 2012….

After a month of working on this year’s video card, I have decided to follow the lead of Peter Jackson. Why spend a solid work week of time editing and simplifying a painfully long movie, when I can break it into several movies? In the case of the annual Maguire Christmas Card, you don’t have to pay for the extra admission tickets. Such is my loss.

Movie synopsis: Ted and Josie were Brave, they are The Lucky One(s), I hope they have Total Recall of the Beauty and the Beast(s) on this Journey to The Mysterious Island Continent. Spencer and I found that the Dark Knight Rises at work, but Skyfall and Argo are just movies. Sound tracks provided by Teddy’s and Josie’s Dance Party playlist 2012.

Hunger Games: Maybe we shouldn’t get out of the car

Marveling at the Avengers: Teddy Danger and Princess Josephine Conquer the World

American Reunion: Different places, same old life

There and Back Again: The hobbit and his family’s journey from Lesotho to the United States Hitting theaters July 2013.

The 2011 card can be viewed here http://travelingmaguires.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-in-africa-southern-africa.html 

Cake Decorating at High Altitude

The altitude kills all of my cakes. Pies are fine, but my poor cakes. Even brownies sink, but I figured out the trick, large pan and very thin brownies. Spencer of course got triple chocolate brownies for his birthday. I made cakes for my and Josie's birthdays. Spencer surprised Ted with a Spiderman cake for his birthday hoping that it would save me heartache.

The cakes I made were tasty, but were sad and pathetic in their own right. I made little cake pan sized ones for my birthday. 4 of these turned out and we each decorated one. I think the kids did a great job coloring. The icing was perfect, straight from a plastic can. 

Josie's cakes were a different story altogether. I failed on three. Yes, three. They all either fell or didn't cook right due to the altitude. Not only did I want to give Josie a nice birthday cake, but had invited all the kids and parents I knew in Lesotho to the party. Possible exaggeration here, but I truly had stressed myself out over a second birthday. 

After so many failures, I had to call in the expert. Tebbie at Teb's baked goods. This is the perfect time to plug her little business. Call Teb at 5888 6824 for all your baked good needs, carrot cakes, red velvet cakes, I have to stop I am getting hungry. She totally came through the day before the party with cupcakes. She gave me a large container of the most amazing lemon icing and let me decorate at will. 

Josie is obsessed with birds and over did it just a little on the bird theme. Still, the only cake that survived my kitchen and Teb's cupcakes looked great when I was done. Shame she won't remember her second birthday party. I am sure it will be the prettiest.

The store bought cake was disgusting. The frosting just isn't American style butter creme. It may possibly have been a whipped creme frosting of some kind, though extremely thick and totally inedible. The frosting between the two layers was actually granadia, passion-fruit. It was jelly-like and still had the seeds. Again, not something that my sweet tooth was capable of handling. The cake itself was like sand. Never again. We didn't take a picture of that one, Ted’s party was at school not home.

Maseru is a Hardship post

I had a discussion recently, argument really, about why Maseru is a hardship post. I passionately argued this is not a hardship post. My associate factually pointed out that it is.

“There are two grocery stores in town,” I pointed out. “There is a mall with a movie theater.” I say we are safe, “We live in secure homes with electrical and water backups.” I argue that anything we are missing can be found over the South African border in Ladybrand or Bloemfontein.

The defense consists of solid points that only seasoned FSO’s think about. “There is no hospital here. The closest medical center is in Bloemfontein, 2 hours away.” “There is no police force that is visually present to serve and protect.” Deftly, he blunts my emotional argument with solid facts on health and safety.

He didn’t argue the goods and services. Those cause the emotional hardship, but guiltily make me feel like a spoiled American. But those are the ones I had focused on. I try to counter “We are surrounded by doctors here and medical clinics, such as Bayler and others.” He points out that my children are not HIV positive and are therefore not eligible for care. “But in an emergency, there are many people to turn to. Even without an emergency, many expats take advantage of these services.” “You can not count on that.” He states.

“But what about Ladybrand and Bloem? Are half hour and 2 hour drives to far for everything you need?” The party line is “Yes. You can not take into account another country when considering the hardship of the country you are assigned to.”

I gave up. Not conceding that he won, but he certainly out argued me. I am the world’s worst arguer and near to this point I tend to think my next retort will consist of crossing my arms over my chest and saying “fine!” A wonder I never win.

All week I have been thinking about this. I understand his points but am conflicted. What utopian city could “hardship” really be compared to? If you read the earliest posts on this blog you know that our car took bullets in DC, cars were broken into so often we didn’t lock the doors, police were out all hours of the night, and a victim of crime beat on our house door at 3 am. Even my Virginia apartment was broken into.  

Should parts of DC receive danger pay? No, not at all. Name for me one place you have lived that was perfectly safe and stress-free. Life is not that way. There is always something. Giving birth in a hospital dedicated to women and infants does not guarantee your baby will live, even in the States.

We are coddled here. We expect it. If we had to live like the local citizens of these countries, Foreign Service Officers would not come. If we had to live like the other expats, we still won’t come. Our hardships must be acknowledged. We must be rewarded. I try to remind myself about the terrible internet; the lack of ambulances; the constant apathy; the irregularity of items, especially chicken, at the grocery store; the long border lines; the closest pediatrician in Bloem, but still feel guilty about the luxury in which we live when I compare myself to others here.

I tend to think this person is right more often than not and I respect his opinions, so why argue? Possibly, my lapse in judgment was due to the constant stresses. Maybe I really do need a trip back into a first world country to resume perspective. It is not hard to adapt to this environment, but the little frustrations are wearing.

Maguire Wire Audience

If you scroll down to the bottom of the blog, you will see a map. If you click on the Cluster Map you will see the number of visitors and where they come from. We are very excited to see that there are 88 countries represented. I am sure the number of visits would be better if we wrote more than 2 or 3 posts a month. In order to create a following, we must create something to follow.

Initially, the blog had two purposes. The first was to help the family back home keep up with the kids. This hasn't worked out so well, since uploading pictures has been a problem. Yes, mom, we are fully aware of your disappointment on this. The second was to present a timeline and some guidance to people interested in the Foreign Service. I haven't received any feedback to this purpose.

Spencer and I being slightly nerdy types, we turned our blog into a history lesson on Lesotho. This little known country is stunningly beautiful and has much to offer. Though we can not promise a lot of pictures, I invite our readers, followers, and random people who stumble upon us, to ask questions. Posing a question for us to research and write about may even help us write more often.

Do ask questions about Lesotho. A great man here said that he considers all expats to be ambassadors for Lesotho. He has high expectations and I believe he is right. This country deserves to be represented and understood in order to create a following.

Mail Call

Mail is slow here, but could be worse. It has been worse. There were 2 and 3 month delays the first six months we lived here. Consequence of being the ugly step-sister of Johannesburg and Pretoria. Now on average the wait is 3 weeks.

Recently we received mail and it contained things ordered 22 days ago. A little late for Father's Day, but right on time for Spencer's birthday. It is best to plan for 4 weeks, but it is good to know that the crazy multi-month delays are behind us. 

But now I remember mail last week, when we received over 300 pull-ups and diapers. There was a hold up somewhere and we did not receive any diapers for many weeks. Out of necessity Josie had to be totally potty trained. She was on her way, but due to the potty issues we had with Ted, we were taking this one really slow. Now that she is in underwear during the day, we have enough pull-ups and diapers to last both kids through our time in Maseru. Maybe both will be ready for underwear at night when we leave. That would be awesome!

Usually mail comes once a week, sometimes less. It feels like the Pony Express is riding through town when it comes. I truly understand the excitement of the mail. That excitement is lost with 6 day a week delivery. While I was out of the country, did it change to 5 days?  Just wondering. Anyway... mail is one of the most exciting things in my life. Most times mail consists of the standard solicitations, but it is exciting none-the-less. 

Petrol in Lesotho

Petrol, unleaded for us Americans, is relatively easy to get in Maseru. Stations are not easy to find outside of the main city. They can be found at main intersections throughout the country, but you are encouraged to gas up whenever you see one. It is also common for stations to be out of petrol, so it is best to top up even if you know there is a station up the road. Your favorite might be out for the day.

My last till slip (receipt) information is below. This filled the tank for about 7 days of normal use. I have been meaning to write down the milage for months, but haven't done it. With an exchange rate of 8.45R/$ we are paying about $79.53 each week for fuel.

unleaded 93
10.20Rand per Liter
65.880Liters
R672.00 total
82.53 VAT included (value added tax of 14%)

Diesel is easy to find and maybe would have been a better choice, but we didn't know that when we moved here.

Temperature Swings

Spencer and I have lived around the US. We have experienced 7 foot snows in Buffalo and 2 foot snows in DC. We have lived on lakes, swamps, and in the rolling hills of Kansas. Never before have we lived anywhere that had such dramatic daily temperature swings.

The mornings start frosty. Not too terribly cold, but a couple of degrees below freezing. The mornings are usually clear, warming to the mid 60's. Then sometime around 1 or 2 the wind picks up and the clouds roll in. The temperature drops with the sun. The clouds clear during the night, releasing all of the stored solar heat into the atmosphere and come morning, frost and clear skies again.

The forty degree change in temperature makes it difficult to dress. Layers are a must. I have even worn long underwear on a hike, only to find that I am dying from too much heat 2 hours in.

The houses are not insulated. Heat escapes everywhere and the wind blows in everywhere. Today at lunch I could see my breath in the kitchen. If i had walked outside, I would have been warmer. The cinderblock construction holds the chill and does not heat well.

We have often been asked by the Basotho if we have ever lived anywhere this cold. Of course the answer is that we have lived in places far colder. But the environment is unique and due to the dramatic daily swing, it is difficult for the body to adjust to cold nights.

A Year in Lesotho

Exactly a year ago today, Cary and Ted and Josephine and I arrived here in Lesotho on this great adventure.  After almost 48 hours of travel, including more than 8000 miles on 3 airplanes, and a night in the nicest hotel room I have ever stayed in, we got to our new home at around 10:30 am.  The drive from the Bloemfontain airport to the border is beautiful, and the color and the landscape reminded me of southern Utah.

My first impression was that it was way colder that I expected.  It was winter here when we arrived, but I had always assumed there was no such thing as real winter in Africa.  It also didn't help that we were leaving DC at the height of the hottest June on record, so the cold was particularly hard to deal with.  That and we didn't have hot water for most of the first month which was simply brutal.

In the year since we arrived here at our first Foreign Service post, I have learned a great deal about Lesotho, about the State Department, about expat living, and I have met some phenomenal people.  The expat community here is filled with friendly, smart, and talented people, which has made for a soft landing.  I recently described Maseru as a hardship post without too much of the hardship.  I think that about sums it up.  

All in all, it has been a good first year.

Famous People from South Africa and Lesotho

Okay, there is no one from Lesotho that you would have heard of. Moshoeshoe was a great king and a model leader who founded this country, but no one outside Lesotho has heard of him. Lesotho has a strong connection with the House of Windsor, but the Royal family hasn't visited since I have been here.

South Africa is our closest connection. There are some people we all know are from South Africa, but some you didn't know where born here.

Born in SA:
J. R. R. Tolkien- born in Bloemfontein, our closest city.
Dave Matthews- Jo'burg
Charlize Theron- Jo'burg
Basil Rathbone- famous for his portrayal of Sherlock Holmes, among others
Ladysmith Black Mumbazo - the group started in the town of Ladysmith
Nelson Mandela- totally obvious, but still good to list
Desmond Tutu- Strongest connection to SA, but he was also the Archbishop of Lesotho for a time

People with a strong connection to the area:
Ghandi- lived in South Africa during the Boer wars, just north of Lesotho
Winston Churchill- started to make his mark during the same war. They were in the same battle just North of here.

Internet in Lesotho

I always complain about internet here so I thought it might be good to show you the receipts.

We buy the largest bulk size available from Vodacom in order to get the discount. Not much of a discount, but we will take what we can get. The price is R655.30 for 4000mb. The true value is R680.

This lasts about 21 days. That is without downloading or uploading pictures or watching videos. We just do the normal browsing, email, Facebook, and the occasional software update. As you are painfully aware, this has not included bog updates in many months and no pictures.

Vodacom is the best for us, since the Econet in our house worked only 2 weeks each month. Though when it worked it was great. Vodacom is a stick, but feels more like dialup since we have to turn it on every time we want to browse and turn it off whenever moving to another application. Still it is hit or miss. Most days we try to connect many times before it makes an actual connection to the internet.  We actually reprogrammed the audio on the computer to say "Damn it!" every time the Vodacom stick kicks us off the internet. This happens randomly and also when not actively surfing. For example, the internet kicked off midway through typing the third paragraph of the blog post. If i pay attention and connect again, I won't lose my work.

The current exchange rate is R8.45/$1. 4000mb every 21 days is about $77.55.We purchased 5 bundles between April 12 and June 30.  I don't want to do the math for the year.

When does your license expire?

Always a good question to ask yourself. Right now, walk over to your wallet, pull out your driver's license and check the expiration date. While you are at it, check the dates on your passport(s). If the dates are close to expiring, leave this blog immediately and renew.

That is the question Spencer posed to me Monday. He was wise to ask, my driver's license had expired 93 days ago!!!! I tried to renew online, but the DMV would not let me. I wrote a friend of Spencer's who has connections and still it was a no go. I wrote to FLO (Family Liaison Office) and they had some contacts in VA and MD, but none in our state. I tried OBC and was reminded that I had been warned that these things do happen. Thanks.  Next time I am in the States I will have to retake my road and written tests. Ugh.

Thankfully, working in an Embassy has many privilidges. One big one for me this week, is working with wonderful people who know how the Lesotho bureaucracy works. A big "thank you" has to go out to the LES who took me by the hand and walked me through, in fact drove me to and practically held my hand throughout, the whole process of getting a local license.

Foreign Service families beware, this happens all the time. In our small post there are a couple of people  who had expired licenses or close calls. If you haven't already, pull out your wallet and check the date!

Eventing? My Ass!

My second eventing show didn't go as well as the first. I am not sure I can even list all the things that went wrong before arriving. In hind sight, I should have respected the signs and bowed out of the competition.

First, there was the plague that infested the house for weeks. The kids and I were all on antibiotics for respiratory infections, weak and pathetic. Horses are hard enough to handle when healthy, definitely too much to handle when sick and in my case, illness induced asthma.

Then there was the flesh eating bacteria that was eating my nose. Josie had scratched it a week before and because of my low immune system, the cut festered. This left me feeling very self consious, which effected everything I did.

Then there was Spencer's trip to Clarens with the guys. He was so hyped for the trip he kept forgetting about my show and was giving me a hard time about the timing. I had to coordinate a sitter for the day. Of course, Spencer left late in a mad rush and the sitter got to the house late, making me leave in a mad rush.

I was just too excited for this. You know how sometimes, the more excited you are the worse the outcome? Yup, I had the feeling this was going to be one of those times.

My usual horse was sick with a cold, so I borrowed one from a friend. The saddle and tack were also all borrowed.

Those were the early warnings. The horses arrived at the show all hyped up. Apparently, I failed to notice the full moon. The three of them walked to the show from the neighboring farm and still had lots of energy.

All together it was too much. Foolishly we chose to do the cross-country first, thinking it would tire out the horse. He was completely out of control. I couldn't get him to stand even to fix the stirrups. Instead we galloped around the course, with my feet out of the stirrups half the time. After jump 31 I began to think we were going to get through the course ok. Then I tried to turn him to go over a dunga and he decided to go straight. He galloped back to the barn and I sat on the ground thinking that South African ground is so much harder than US ground.

The event organizers are a very nice bunch and even though I should have been eliminated, they allowed me to participate in the other two events. I had to retire halfway through the jumping round, since I was still unable to breath. The dressage was "very stiff" according to the judge.

A little over a week later and I am still sore, but happy to report that there is no permanent damage. The nose is healing nicely with some high powered antibiotics. I will make sure to tell all of Josie's future boyfriends the source of my scar. All the cold germs are gone and the kids are happy again. Spencer had a memorable guys weekend in Clarens. Thursday, Jumanji was back to his old self and Lone Star was over his cold. I must work on my fall. I landed somewhere between my hip and my butt, so I sit like an old lady. I bought an eventing vest on Amazon, so in 4-8 weeks I will be, hopefully, be ready to try this again. Next time though, I will trust instinct and ignore my over excitement.

Genius!

bil-tong
n. South African.  Narrow Strips of meat dried in the sun.

[Afrikaans : bil, buttock (from Middle Dutch bille) + tong, tongue (from Middle Dutch tonghe)

---

I stumbled on something recently at the grocery store that can only be described as "Genius!"  Some of you may have never heard of biltong, but all it is is South African for beef jerky.  For those of you who know me well enough to know my eating habits, you probably know that one of my favorite junk foods is ramen noodles.  Simply cannot get enough of them.

Combine the two, and what do you get?  You guessed it.

Let me introduce you to this new (to me) culinary masterpiece, BEEF JERKY FLAVORED RAMEN NOODLES!!!

Big Sky

One of the truly amazing things in Lesotho is its big sky.  If you've ever spent any time in Montana, or anywhere else in the Rockies or the upper great planes, you understand what the term big sky means.  Lesotho reminds me a lot of Montana.  A few weeks ago, we saw the biggest, fullest rainbow any of us could remember.  It was amazing.

Ted's Class Newsletter

Teddy is a chatty kid. He gets that totally from his dad and if you are reading this blog, you know exactly what I mean. The kid just doesn't shut up, he might even talk in his sleep. He is also a pretty charismatic child, which means that he has far more friends than I do.

The class distributed a newsletter today. Most kids when interviewed about their winter break said something short and sweet. I have to give you some samples because 1- you can see what short and sweet is. 2- you can see the British spellings, which I still struggle with. 3- see the products and places that are important to little ones here. Here are some samples:
"I went to Pick n Pay with my mum to buy Simbas." (PnP is the local grocery store. Simbas are a kind of chip.
"I went to Bloemfontein to eat ice-cream." (The biggest town near us, about 2 hours away).
"I went to Pick n Pay with my dad to buy yoghurt and chips."
"We went to Cape Town by aeroplane because it was too long to drive and tiring. We stayed there for 3 days. Mummy bought us ice-cream and we saw penguins. This is how they walked (demonstration)." (Teddy)