The Doctor Is In...

3.29

Good Sunday night to you. I just arrived back to my homestead from a long awaited meeting with a traditional doctor. Don't worry, I will provide a detailed account later in the post. For now, let's go back to last Tuesday, 3/24.

The day began with my typical library arrival, although I must admit that my arrival time has slowly shifted from 7:30am to closer to 8am, as has my waking time shifted from 6:30am to about 7am. Lucia insists that I need not come in so early, but I explained that I felt I should be there just as everyone else is there at that time. Then she pointed out that everyone else is paid to be there when they get there. Regardless, the concept of working 20 hours a week is only a faint memory now, as within a few weeks after arriving Sarah and I started pulling nearly full work weeks. The day was filled with my attempts at decorating the children's room. This included cutting out stars shapes and coloring them, then laminating the old fashioned way – with tape. I also cut a lot of pictures out of old magazines and newspapers, and then pasted them on paper, followed by the tape procedure. Everything was meant to be hung from the ceilings, but after seeing what it looked like with the black twine, the only hanging string mechanism we have, we all decided that maybe they would look better on the walls. And they did. So, not only is the adult section newly redecorated from Monday, with a spruced up culture table and another public computer, but now the children's section is no longer littered with public service announcements on the walls (which have their place in the library, but not in the children's room in my opinion), but instead has some visually stimulating decorations with children in mind. The library looks good (period).

Anyhow, during the later afternoon I “knocked off” (quit for the day), and headed home. There I met Sox and my host father (Thebe). They said we're going to the village dam, so Topo, Thabiso, and I loaded in the back of the pickup truck, and Sox, my host father and mother loaded up the cab, and we set off. The dam is not particularly far from where the family lives, but it is much easier reaching with a four wheel drive vehicle, than by foot. So, we spent a few minutes there and took a few group photos (I finally used my tripod for the traditional timer photo, and with success, too). From there we headed across one of the main arteries cutting through Mmankgodi to what the family called the “lands.” I tell you, it's amazing how different life can be just on the other side of a road. It felt as though we had arrived back at the cattle post, meaning: huts, open fire cooking, home grown food, and I'm sure indoor plumbing has yet to make an appearance there. Despite such different living situations, the few people we stopped to chat with (of course I did not exactly participate in the chat, except for the usual Dumela Mma or Dumela Ra) were very pleasant. In fact, one woman gave us some sweet reed, a fresh watermelon from her field, and some maize also from her field, which turned out to be our dinner. She also had some maize spread out on sheets of tin roof on the ground, drying in the setting sun. They were quite tasty, almost crunch to the bite and slightly sweeter than when the maize in boiled. Heading back to the house, we gave some of those we chatted with a ride to the other side of Mmankgodi, and prepared the gift of maize and watermelon (actually, we arrived with seven watermelon, they were a gift from the woman we visited).

Wednesday, 3/25, consisted of initial work on a proposal for a cooperative partnership program between a local football (soccer) academy and the library. I have high hopes for this program to work out, but it is really going to depend on the head coach and Lucia to continue in the future. It seems to be a great way to advertise the library, increase visitation, and promote library services. Around lunch time, Sarah and Kabo arrived from Kopong. They had visited so we could go over some ideas about a library report that we will compile prior to our departure (which is now a matter of weeks). They brought “Chicken Licken'” for lunch (don't laugh, the alternative was “Bimbos”), and we provided the coke for our refreshment delight. After going over our plans, I snagged a ride back to Gabs with Sarah and Kabo (they had arranged transport from BNLS, so they had a driver); however, the turn off to Kopong is before the city, so Sarah and I got out there, caught a combi to the bus rank, and walked to main mall. There we simply went into the Intercape bus office, and booked a very long bus ride. Our itinerary includes Maputo, Mozambique; Cape Town, South Africa; and Windhoek, Namibia, all via bus. We also go through Johannesburg and Pretoria, South Africa. Most of the buses are overnight, saving us accommodation costs, and for all of that, over the course of 11 days, only cost around $250, with our student discount. Not bad, if you ask me. We then booked a flight for around the same cost from Windhoek to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe. I know what you're saying, “Zimbabwe, are you serious?” Well, yes, I am serious, and we have also looked into the reality of the situation in that country. The town of Victoria Falls is literally on the border with Zambia, and apparently, according to recent articles, Zimbabwe is trying to improve its drastically hit tourism. As for overall safety, the area is basically all tourism, so we are hoping that this will aid in our quick look at Victoria Falls. The reason we are going there, besides the airport being there, is because numerous people have highly recommended seeing the falls from the Zimbabwe side, especially during this time when the waters are higher. My guess is that we will arrive around 1pm on the 12th of April, see the falls, and then head right into Zambia, where we can purchase a one day tour visa. From there we will either stay the night or head right into Botswana, a short ride away. The trip, overall, should take about two weeks, and we will arrive back in Gabs after taking a bus down from the Kasane. We are aware of the potential risks, and will be careful, we promise.

Anyhow, like I said, we booked the bus ticket, and then headed to internet cafe to book the plane ticket to Vic Falls on Air Namibia. We were both relieved to have the trip that we had been discussing for weeks, finally set in stone. Not to mention the fact that we now have a much needed break on the horizon.

After arriving home on the bus (groan), I made scrambled eggs for everyone, and that was dinner, followed shortly by bedtime.

On Thursday, 3/26, I finally finished the football program proposal, or at least the first draft. I had Lucia look over it, and we are now just sitting on it until we can send it to BNLS and the Ministry of Sports, Youth, and Culture, to request funding. The reason for sitting is due to both Lucia's and my schedules for the next couple weeks. Regardless of the outcome of the funding request, however, the program can still begin, which is my intention to see happen before leaving. Constructing the proposal actually took more time than I had predicted, but by lunch time, I had completed it.

Later in the day, I tried attempt number two at making dumplings. I can honestly say they were better than last time, but still have room for improvement. I am getting the technique for making the shape, it was just the amount of water I had in the pot that prevented them from reaching perfection (well, I don't think they will ever reach perfection, but the nice thing is, only I know what they are supposed to be like! So no one will know if they suck when I make them, pardon my French). Later in the evening, another wild (or shall I say crazy? So it's not just a clever name) game of crazy eights erupted between Topo, Thabiso, Trevor (actually, his Setswana name is Tumisang, or Tumi for short), and me. And that was the night. I should also add that my orange consumption has gone through the roof. I love them; they are so delicious right from the tree. I get up in the morning, have some breakfast and coffee, then go outside ten feet from the back stoop, and pick some oranges from the tree. It doesn't get much better than that, let me tell you. And they are not tart; they are just juicy and sweet. In the past I used to prefer cold oranges from the fridge, but now my preference has shifted to loving oranges warmed by the sun as they slowly change from green to orange as the days pass by. Simply delicious. In fact, I remember one time when I was in Scotland, I was hiking in the Isle of Skye and I bought some small oranges at a local shop. They were imported from Israel and were some of the best oranges I have ever had (obviously they made enough of an edibility impact to remember them from five years ago and to write about them now). They were sweet, peeled easily, and were not tart or acidic. Well, I am afraid those oranges have now meet there match, or at least opponent, or ever teammate.

Oh Fridays, how I love thee. No matter where you are in the world, you can always count on Fridays to be one of the best days of the week (of course not better than Saturday, but where would Saturday be without Friday? And yes, six is afraid of seven because seven ate nine). Anyhow, Friday, 3/27, rolled out of bed (literally, I can do that, remember, I'm only about five inches off the floor) and had some porridge, or maybe some cheetos and biscuits, I can't remember to be honest. But I do know there were some oranges and coffee involved. Anyhow, Sarah and Bob Rothschild stopped by the library for a visit. It turned out to be an unexpected/surprise visit, since the Orange network (my cell phone network, and also the Rothschild's) was down (I still can't access internet on my phone, yet). It was the first time I had met Sarah, and she was a lovely person; very kind and warm. She and Bob have established a very good balance between the two of them, creating a symmetrical sense of opposing personalities. It was nice to see them both in Mmankgodi, and to be able to show both of them the progress we have made at the library. I am glad that we completed the recent improvements and rearrangements earlier in the week, because the library looks much more inviting now, which both Bob and Sarah picked up on.

My Friday night was nothing to brag about, just worked on statistics and applying for a job (yes, a job in the US, but I am not at liberty to say, as some potential competition may be reading this! Although in all reality, this one is a long shot, for sure. So don't worry Andy, keep my seat warm in the digital lab). Exciting? Not exactly. Productive? Definitely.

3/30

Well it's official; I am now addicted to fresh oranges. Yesterday Thabiso and I climbed one of the trees and just sat in it eating oranges, I can no longer help myself, they are so good! Anyhow, picking up from last night, my Saturday, 3/28, began by me sleeping in, at least for some time. I miss sleep. From there I had some eggs for breakfast and started in on doing my dreaded laundry. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I hate laundry, almost exactly opposite of how much I love those oranges. Typically Sunday is the laundry day for me at home in America, but I had been putting it off far too long (about two weeks too long, to be exact). I won't go into the details because I'm sure some of you out there would prefer it that way, but I needed some clean clothes. As a result, I found myself hovering over the large metal pale in the backyard, sprinkling some detergent in it, and proceeded to scrub my clothes by hand. It wasn't pretty, but it got the job done. I don't think I'll ever really get this hand washing thing down, probably just like I will never get the dumpling recipe down (but you're not supposed to know that). Anyhow, after some time, the laundry was clean (at least it smelled good), and it headed to the two clothes lines draped between three weathered wooden posts. Within a matter of hours, the combination of wind and intense sun dried all of the clothes, no problem.

After hanging my laundry to dry, I took a bath, and then headed to the chief's house because there was some sort of ceremony for his unmarried daughter, which still remains a mystery. At one point, it was explained to me as a political get-together, and then it somehow became a traditional ceremony for the eldest unmarried daughter to teach her etiquette of “how to be married.” Don't ask me, I'm as confused as you are. Anyhow, I stopped in there and made my appearance, the fourth time I have met the chief, and then headed back to the house with KB, since apparently the ceremony was between ceremonies at that time (that's not a typo, there was not much going on when I stopped in).

When I returned home, my host mother was in meeting with some other women in the front yard. Apparently it is some sort of women's club, and every month everyone puts 150 pula into a pot, and one person from the club gets the lot, which is 1500 pula. It's actually an interesting concept, which I cannot say I have encountered before.

Eventually dinner came (and went), and somehow I found myself returning to library work in my bedroom. I can happily report, however, that I am now officially done with collecting the statistics (manipulating them into something representational is a different story).

Sunday, 3/29, I woke up around 8am, not exactly sleeping in, by my standards at least, and breakfast revolved once again around some sort of egg dish (and oranges, naturally). Then I somehow ended up in sort of a game of tag with Topo and Thabiso, in and around the house, making me realize exactly how out of shape I am (a return to running around Monona Bay is in my future, I predict). I also started gathering some information about some local folktales, or at least beliefs. My village is surrounded by a number of hills, most likely an ancient lake bed, as I remember Louise observing. There is one hill in particular, Mmankgodi Hill, which seems to protrude a little more than the others. It is as the base of this hill that the village of Mmankgodi was established. Speaking of which, the name Mmankgodi derives from Mma, meaning mother, and Nkgodi, meaning hawk. The story is that the first settlers there saw a hawk and named the village after it. Although it should also be noted that Mmankgodi was originally at the location of Matlotleng, but in 1933 relocated to its present location to be closer to the Kolobeng River as a source of water. Anyhow, I have expressed on numerous occasions the interest in hiking some of the surrounding hills, but no one seemed to be interested. Finally, I now understand. Mmankgodi Hill, which is one of the hills I would like to climb, is actually thought to be where a variety of gods reside. There are stories of people going up the hill and hearing voices, but seeing no one; seeing giant snakes turn into “white people;” large clay pots that no one knows where they came from; and areas of water that sometimes have no water. Traditional doctors can go there, and apparently take baths in some of the mysterious water at the top. No one in my family wants to go to the top, nor do they want me to venture there, for my own safety. At least not without the aid of a traditional doctor.

In addition to Mmankgodi Hill, there are a number of other special locations, including a supposed deep spot in the Kolobeng River, called Dipharagobe, where a giant snake resides at the bottom. Apparently, there spiritual healers went there last year and they all died, or so I was told. There is also another location on the river where only the traditional doctors go to graduate their students, and I was told they would take me there when I return from my trip around southern Africa. Another area is a place they call the “crawl of the gods,” which are entrances between the surrounding hills that have some sort of presence when you stand in them, and despite those areas having very nice grass for grazing, the cattle refuse to graze there. Also, I was told avoid “rock rabbits,” and if I come across a large group of mosquitoes, I should run away because big snakes always accompany those large groups.

So it appears that there are not any specific stories, but rather, tales of the experiences that others have had in those locations.

Anyhow, having been told I would meet a traditional doctor for weeks, I finally insisted on it yesterday. So we drove to one, but only his wife was there (she is also a doctor, but wanted her husband to give me a consultation). So, later in the evening around 6pm, we returned to their house, with a nice view of Mmankgodi Hill in the background. There were two, what I would call, shamanic drums outside of the structure where the consultations take place. I was allowed to take pictures, the husband and wife were very nice, and are good friends with Maola, the eldest son of my host family. So, after removing my shoes and entering the concrete structure, I sat down on a rug across from the traditional doctor, separated by another square piece of cloth, a lantern, and the “bones,” otherwise known as rune stones. He is able to interpret the bones by how they fall when dropped on the red square clothe between us. At first, it was basically just a demonstration, and the bones apparently didn't know why I was there because there didn't seem to be any sort of problem. We then threw down the bones three more times, each time he read them and told me some information. Some of that information included that I have strong blood in body; my totem is the snake (which may be the case for all Caucasians, I'm not sure); I have gods around me and protecting me; and I cannot “get bewitched,” meaning people cannot put a spell on me because of my totem or gods. I am not sure if I buy my totem, because I don't feel any connection to snakes. If you ask me, trees are more my totem, and I know animals are typically what totems are, but I think any natural object can also be...then again, what do I know? Some other things the bones showed was a map of where I came from, that being Madison. One of the tosses revealed a separation between groups of bones, and he indicated that that separation was some sort of physical separation like a highway, river, or, as I suggested, a lake. So I informed them that Madison had a lake in it, and apparently that was what was pictured. On a later toss of the bones, there was a similar separation, this time there were two of them, meaning there were three groups of bones, with the middle group being almost a line between the other two. He then asked me (translated by my host brother, of course) if there was something else behind “my city.” To that I answered, yes, another lake, and then it became apparent that the bones were showing the Madison isthmus, on which the city center is located. That was quite interesting, I must say. He also informed me that I will be able to climb Mmankgodi Hill, but only with him present. I an answer to one of my many questions, he said that when I was very young, my parents and I were at the ocean (which is totally feasible, because my mother's side of the family lived in California when I was young, and my father's side still lives in Maryland and we did take trips to the Atlantic), they fed me something, and that thing is what is still protecting me. I have yet to identify what I ate, but how's that for food for thought, pun intended.

Inside the structure, the ceiling has strings criss-crossing across it, supposedly for protection against bad spirits. Two of the walls had shelving, and each shelf was essentially a wall of small containers. I am not sure what was in them, but most likely some sort of ingredient for some sort of ritual. On the floor, close to where we were sitting, there a lot of small sculptures, some boa constrictor skin, and a variety of other sort of objects and items. He and his wife appeared relatively “normal” (whatever that means), except that they both wore bead necklaces and bracelets, which have some sort of spiritual significance. They were probably around middle age, and very welcoming to me, enough so, that they invited me to attend a large ritual in about two weeks, after I return from the trip, and said I could even tape it. There was a woman that was on a blanket outside in their sand lawn, and she was apparently a student of the two doctors. She didn't say anything, at least not with her mouth, but her eyes were another story.

Anyhow, I am simply fascinated with this sort of religious traditions, and was so happy to have glimpse into it. I very much look forward to the ritual ceremony in about two weeks, and climbing Mmankgodi Hill. Before all of this new knowledge, I was interested in climbing Mmankgodi Hill for the sake of the view and hiking, but now there is so much more, I can't wait. It is my opinion that today's modern world has become so disconnected from the natural world, that we, as humans, are not able to communicate or interpret the signs that nature emits. In ancient times, people were very connected with nature, and much more sensitive to its signs. However, most of those traditions are now lost, except for those that can still communicate, such as traditional doctors.

Oh, and the good news is that I am not a witch, because they wouldn't have welcomed me into their presence if I was. So you can sleep better tonight knowing that, I'm sure.

The rest of my night was uneventful, as I was processing the earlier events. Dinner was some left over spaghetti, coleslaw, beans, and a hardboiled egg, all mixed together in a bowl. Contrary to your (and my) initial thoughts, it was delicious.

As for today, Monday, 3/30, I spent nearly the entire day in the library. Like I said earlier, I finally finished gathering the numbers for the statistics. I am now only left with the task of turning those numbers into usable information, which is sort of fun (I can't believe I just said that). Tomorrow I will come in to the library in the morning, and then head to Gaborone for the night. Sarah and I will stay at Angelina's for the night, and leave very early on Wednesday morning for our bus to Mozambique. That said, I will probably not post anything for the next two weeks. However, don't despair, I will keep a typical handwritten journal during the trip, and report to you when we return back. I am not going to take my computer because of fear of having it stolen or broken, and since I am trying to take a little as possible. I will, however, still take my camera despite the risks, I need those pictures. All right, that is about all from this side of the world. Talk to you in two weeks.

When Life Gives You Limes, Make Orange Juice

First of all, sorry for the delay in posting. Second of all, sorry for the length of this post. Third of all, I hope this post contains more moisture than a Botswana summer (translation: I hope it’s not too dry). On the up side, this should keep you distracted for a while from work, school, or both. As for errors, yes, I am sure there are many: Enjoy!

3/11

On Saturday (3/7), Sarah and I headed to Gaborone, instead of on our usual Friday appointment. My bus was actually one time at my stop, not to mention arrived to Gabs relatively quickly. Upon meeting Sarah at the bus rink at our new rendezvous spot, the Pie (as in chicken pot, not apple) restaurant. I arrived shortly before Sarah did, so I helped my self to a yogurt drink from the nearby grocery store (I should mention that these stores are all located at an outdoor style mall near the bus rink) and sat on a step outside the store's entrance to organize my money and drink my drink. Before I could even open my drink, I was instructed to move to a nearby bench to sit, despite my (stern) explanation that I was simply putting my money away. My threshold for frustration is relatively low in the morning hours, and I'm afraid this security woman nearly crossed it. So, I moved on, sat on a bench, drank my drink, and moved to an entrance to the shopping center to wait for Sarah. Taking advantage of the overhang-cast shade, I leaned against the brick wall of the outside of a shop. Guess what? Apparently leaning on outside walls is also prohibited. I asked this different security woman if I could simply stand on the side walk, or was that also not okay? In response, she told me to step another six inches from the brick wall, and it was okay to stand there. Well, at that point, I'm pretty sure the threshold was crossed, not that there was any other way to respond besides complying with the supposed rules of sitting and leaning (if standing was also prohibited, I guess walking in circles would have been the only other alternative, that or a handstand).

Thankfully Sarah arrived shortly after I was given instruction on the bus rink proper waiting etiquette, and we opted to walk to Main Mall. Oddly enough (I mean, really oddly enough, I'm still not sure how it happened) we ran into Dan Saint-Rossy, the Director of Public Affairs at the US Embassy. He was driving by and recognized Sarah and me (or has a keen eye for two out-of-place somewhat lost-looking Americans), and we rode with him the short ride to the Embassy. Let me tell you, it was a thousand times easier to get in with Dan than it was the previous Tuesday (when again, we fit the role of the out-of-place somewhat lost-looking Americans). After Dan's Honda CRV was inspected, we passed through and went to the front door of the Embassy. There we met one of about five Marines stationed in Gaborone, working behind a thick pane of (I assume) bullet proof glass. This glass went well with the seemingly bomb-proof doors that weighed more than I do (and at this point in my diet, that translates to “not light”). Dan had placed on a list, as we were originally scheduled to visit him later that day, so we simply exchanged our passports for visitors' passes and made our way to Dan's office. In it were boxes of books that had been sent to the Embassy to be distributed around Botswana. However, we now know that such distribution cannot exist with the current collection development for the library system as a whole. As a result, the books remained in his office. Some where extra text books, overflow copies of new books, and even strange 1970's sci-fi books featuring Alexander the Great fighting futuristic aliens on a giant chess board. The books had all apparently originated from Maryland, and there used to be a system involved to randomly distribute the books depending on Embassy visits around the country, but has since halted to make way for a still-developing systematic dispersal system. However, money and staff, or lack thereof, have even further delayed the implementation of this new system, as is my understanding. After taking a look at the Information Resource Center (aka library), and finishing our juice that Dan so generously gave us from his fridge (they have this excellent 100% fruit juice called LiquiFruit, out of South Africa. I highly recommend it next time you're in the area), Dan dropped us off at River Walk mall while he ran some errands. There we used the Internet, ATM, and had another fruit salad. Eventually Dan picked us up, and we headed to Sanita's Tea Garden, an extremely nice oasis of vegetation, botanicals, and great food, hidden in the heart of the city. Don't ask me how to get back there, all I remember is a long dirt road, but I'm sure with proper instructions from Dan, we will again find ourselves there. Sarah and I both had roasted eggplant sandwich, with tomato, lettuce, feta, and some pesto, on a sesame seed bagel. And, I can't forget to mention the rooibos milk shake. This was such an amazing drink, I recommend it to everyone. I am absolutely planning on making this when I get home: rooibos tea + vanilla ice cream + blend = deliciousness. I must also not forget to mention that Dan's wife Susan, young daughter Natalie, and two baby twins, joined us for dinner. Before they were in Botswana, they had been stationed in Russia and also China. However, after this three year stint is over, it appears they will return to the US. Like I said, it was a true oasis, offering a plant nursery and gardening tools. I was happy to take many pictures after the delicious lunch.

From there, we parted ways with Dan's family, and he, Sarah, and I went on a small driving tour of Gaborone. Dan took us to all the main areas and showed us a few great places to eat (which I look forward to exploring), as well a national monument honoring some of the equivalent of our founding fathers. We returned to Dan's office for a short time, and then Sarah and I made our way to the bus rink to embark on what turned out to be an even more than usual uncomfortable ride back to Mmankgodi. I caught the short bus (don't laugh) and had to stand the entire way. It may not sound bad, but believe me, it was pretty rough. Which leads me into a brief discussion of personal space. My standards, which I believe generally represent American standards (seeing as how I am an American), differ greatly from the general experiences I have had here in Botswana. It is not a criticism, simply an observation. People are not afraid to be close in this country, especially on public transportation. And I mean close, like, don't I get dinner and movie first close. This even manifests itself in holding hands, where it is common for two males or females to hold hands in a strictly platonic fashion. Again, I'm not the biggest hand holder, and in America, it tends to imply other things when two individuals share palms, so it does make me a bit uncomfortable when someone grabs for my hand. The truth is, I'm not even a huge hugger, imagine the look on my face when host brother tries to hold my hand. But, this is simply a cultural difference, so I'm too worried, but if when I return home I seem to forget to let go of your hand after a hand shake, please don't take offense (kidding).

So, despite the initial struggles of the day, thanks to Dan and his family, the day turned out to be very educational, and a nice break from the usual day-to-day routine.

On a side note, according to jewishvirtuallibrary.org (I believe that is the site), the Jewish community in Botswana numbers at about 100 members, most of which are agriculturally-based Israelis. In fact, there is no synagogue in the country, and on high holidays a rabbi is “shipped” in from South Africa. So much for visiting the local synagogue.

Sunday (3/8) consisted of me sleeping in. Then KB and I went for a ride around the village, part of which I drove. And so you know, yes, vehicles with steering on the right side, still have the clutch on the left side. Although, it was a bit tricky shifting gears with my left hand, I certainly wouldn't win any races, that's for sure. KB and I made some lunch, I did some laundry (only the lights, unfortunately, and yes, in the bath tub; thankfully we had water), and then KB and I hitched a ride to the neighboring village of Manyana to locate some cave paintings that my Lonely Planet book talks about. Well, we did locate them, unfortunately, access to them was closed on Sundays, and so we will have to try again. Before beginning our journey back, we had a cider at one of the local pubs. Cider is pretty big here, with a variety to choose from. For me it's great, as I prefer it to beer, and did you know that cider was one of the more popular drinks in early America, and it was the arrival of the Germans that spread the popularity of beer? (this is where the parenthetical citation would be if I had one). So, since there was no bus, we started the seven mile (well, that's what KB said it was, but I would guess a little shorter than that) walk home. About a quarter of the way, we caught a ride in the back of a pick-up truck to the junction (about half-way home), and walked the rest. It was no problem for me since I am now used to the walks that Sox and I do, but KB was struggling towards the end.

After finally arriving home, I drank some much needed water and took a much needed bath. When I was finished, the eldest sister and some of her friends had arrived from Gaborone. The insisted I join them at one of the local bars, called “Jazz.” Well, I conceded and joined them for a very short time, all in the name of culture, right? Eventually making back home, I made yet another round of potato wedges for everyone, this time at the request of the grandkids.

I awoke Monday (3/9) to the sound of cowbells as a heard decided to seek temporary reference 100 feet from my bedroom window. After their leases expired, they were should to leave behind some pies (neither chicken pot nor apple), making the walk to the library seem like a journey through a mine-field. Upon safe arrival, the priority of the day was designing a new brochure for the library. Using a template from Microsoft Publisher (I hate incompatibility!), the library computer guy and I designed an entirely new and improved brochure featuring photographs I had taken earlier that morning. It turned out very nice, and we printed a few copies before running out of color ink. The fact is, this printer is a loaner printer, and our normal printer doesn't even in print in color! It's these little set-backs that are so frustrating to both Lucia and me. Regardless, I do have the file saved and we did manage to print a few off to keep on-hand, but we will be unable to distribute until we can print a decent amount.

After lunch I headed to Gaborone to meet Sarah, stop by the Embassy to meet Dan and pick up some contact information from him for the Embassy's travel agent in Gaborone, and head to Game City to visit the South African Air office. We have now started brain storming some ideas about where we would like to travel during our stay. I must say, that we were strongly considering India, as South African Air is running a special on flight to Mumbai, only $425 round trip from Johannesburg!!! And $670 from Gaborone. Now, South Africa requires us to have two blank pages in our passports every time we seek entry. Sarah and I both have exactly two blank pages, meaning, exactly one entry. So, flying in and out of Johannesburg is impossible (we need to get more pages in our passports, which even expedited, takes 2-3 weeks when in the US), and since there is a significant price difference leaving from Gabs, we decided to opt for a journey around southern Africa (which is still in its planning stages) (I should also add that I did look at leaving from Gabs and returning to Johannesburg, and taking a bus for $29 for six hours to Gabs, but we would then have to make sure neither of those blank pages gets stamped before we enter South Africa, not to mention the fact that four days in India is probably not the most cost effective approach to such a large country. And we both intend on going India at some point in the future, so perhaps we will now take advantage of our location and explore this area). Anyhow, even if we were to book directly with South African Air, we would have to book online, and then pay at the office (as per the instructions from the guy we spoke with). So, it appears that a visit to that travel agent Dan recommended is in order. Of the countries we hope to visit, South Africa, Namibia, Zambia, and Mozambique are all on the list. Although we are still in the planning stages, but I will be sure to keep you posted as things fall into place.

I also wanted to mention the journey to Gabs. I met a local DJ at the bus stop and we had some interesting conversation. Turns out, he considers himself a Rastafarian. He explained a bit about Rastafarianism in Botswana, which was quite interesting, as well as some of the difficulties Rastafarians face from the main stream point of view. Despite such a vast distance from Jamaica, he exhibited the same laid-back nature of those that I met while visiting the island. Interestingly enough, he flagged down a truck that stopped to give him a ride, and when they saw that I was coming with, for some reason the offer was no longer available. Now I cannot confirm that there was any sort of discrimination that took place since I don't speak the language here, but it did seem odd, and my initial and obvious thought was that it was because they didn't want to give me a ride. Regardless of whatever the reason was, the bus arrived shortly after, and old, smelly, Mercedes diesel bus, that was louder than an airplane, was half empty, which was a nice treat.

Before heading back to our villages, Sarah and I explored outside of the mall, a bit. To our surprise, we found a nearby Post Office with very fast Internet, the fastest we've seen here. In addition, we found a Chinese food eatery (aka restaurant), given some sort of generic name featuring “Peking,” although I can't quite remember the name off hand. The food was pretty good, good enough that I do believe I will be a return customer, despite the shady service and menu, which I'll simply deem as having character.

I was able to snag a seat on the bus before it filled to (beyond) capacity, and arrived at the bus stop in Mmankgodi after the sun had set. Fortunately for me, it was a waxing gibbous and I was able to find my way home under its guiding light. Under moonless conditions, I am pretty helpless, and would have for sure landed on one of those aforementioned mines.

Tuesday (3/10) was a rainy and cool day, by Botswana standards, at least. By Wisconsin standards, it was nice. By Edinburgh standards, it was normal. It was actually quite relieving since Monday was particularly hot and sunny. I worked on my adult statistics until Professor Totolo arrived. We had previously discussed meeting the second Tuesday of every month, and this was our second meeting. The meeting was simply inspiring. The support that both Professor Totolo and Professor Mnjama have given us has really given us both a lot of motivation and reassurance. I showed Professor Totolo what I have been working on, including a written proposal for a cooperative partnership between the library and the primary schools, a brochure, a user survey that I adopted from Sarah's library, and the statistics and graphs. She was so impressed with the work Sarah and I have been doing, and told me to keep prioritizing the statistics, emphasizing the importance of statistics when evaluating user populations. She also mentioned that when she was receiving her Masters and PhD from the US, she discovered how important statistics are in gaining insight into what reality of these types of situations. In addition to pushing forward with the statistical work, she also said to simply choose one program, and pursue the development of that program. This came as quite a relief to me, as our initial requirements, as given to us by BNLS, were to produce four programs, in addition to advocacy and general library tasks. That was probably a result of this being the first time this program has been run, and it was designed to give us a concept, in order to have a goal. Now that we better understand the struggles and time consumption, I do believe that the Professor's approach is both more beneficial and realistic for the rest of our time here. Lucia also sat in on the meeting, which was nice to but all of our heads together and openly discuss our successes and struggles so far. I know Lucia really gets worn down trying to generate interest in the library with very little resources to work with, so this meeting was support for her, as well. Overall, I felt very good when the Professor left, and her words of encouragement were needed. There some references about being thrown into the deep end and keeping afloat, which I think very accurately describes many aspects, particularly in the beginning, of achieving some stability in our overall direction in the context of library development and even daily life. In addition to providing insight and support for our work, the Professor also extended an invitation to her class next Friday and an invitation to stay at her house, which Sarah and I have both graciously accepted, and look forward to.

After the meeting (and basking the positiveness that followed), I happily continued with my statistics. Now, for the sake of jeopardizing potentially donated books, I will simply say that if someone, like a woman that dropped by Tuesday afternoon, has some books that were, for instance, sent from a friend in L.A., the library would be obligated to send those to the headquarters, from which they would probably never see them again. I will simply leave it at that.

After staying at the library until 6pm (yep, 9.5 hour day not counting lunch, which is becoming more and more typical as my goals become more and more concrete), I returned home and made some chicken stew. I can't say that I have ever made stew before, but dang, this stuff was good. I guess it comes from years of watching my mom make homemade soups, chili, stews. I cooked some chicken, took it off the bone, and put it in with some potatoes, tomatoes, green pepper, onion, and carrot, with some boiling water and soup mix. Later I added some flour to thicken it up, and some salt. This with rice and baked beans. I figured stew was appropriate since everyone has seemed so cold lately from the weather. And don't even think about the not-eating-for-four-hours-before-you-go-to-bed-rule, it doesn't apply in this house.

3/11

Today Lucia, Lu Lu, and I attended a meeting with many other village people (different village people, sorry YMCA) at the kgotla, the town meeting structure. The Assistant Minister of Health was in attendance, and the focal point of the meeting. I have to say, I am learning some serious skills in occupying my mind while I sit through meetings of which I cannot understand the language, this one running for 3.5 hours (actually, today I was thinking about me being home thinking about me being here thinking about me being home. Yeah, it sort of blew my mind, too) Lucia did manage to give me the occasional translation, but I'd say that I knew what was going on for about 4% of the time (how's that for statistics?). During the question and answer (or the extremely long comments) section, there seemed to be a lot of yelling going. Although I should say that during the introduction (after the prayer), Lucia and I were actually introduced as representatives of our department/ministry/division (not sure of the terminology). I heard “Mpho” and then “David,” and Lucia told me to stand up, so we both did. It was actually pretty cool.

After the meeting, I learned that the woman I had been dealing with from one of the primary schools was not actually the teacher-librarian, as I had previously thought, and she actually wanted us to literally set-up there library. As usual, it was a simple miscommunication. Obviously we cannot come and set up there library, but we are still happy to provide guidance, which I re-communicated to that woman. We shall see if anything comes from it.

On a more positive note, I had my second meeting with a local youth soccer coach. He has been running a youth program for boys for the past 12 years, focusing on soccer, education, and teamwork. He came to me looking for help with setting up an email account so he could communicate with individuals in the UK regarding funding for his program. He also wanted help regarding how to request the funding. I have since identified this as potentially my program that I will work with. In order for me to help him, there needed to be some relevance to the library. So today, we discussed how to incorporate the library. His teams practice Tuesday through Friday in the afternoons. Blazer, the coach’s name, emphasizes the importance of education, discipline, motivation, and teamwork, and therefore suggested that we set up a library program in cooperation with his program to require the kids to come in to the every Monday afternoon or every other Monday afternoon. We would then design computer training, possible activities, and other events related to the library and education for those young people. Not only does this have the potential to increase overall library numbers, particularly through word-of-mouth advertising, but we would be providing library services to a lot of kids. He currently has 96 members ranging from ages 6 to 17. I intend on drawing up an initial proposal for this program in the near future. That said, it appears that the brochure, the statistics and report, and the library soccer program will most likely (over)fill my remaining time here. I am already feeling the crunch trying to get these statistics compiled, but once they are done, they will be a significant source of information. In fact, I even have the library computer guy working on the computer statistics in Excel, which is great for the sake of the long-term, as he can carry on my work, and even provide instruction to the other library staff members.

After departing the library at 6pm, again, I returned home to find the final member of the family I had yet to meet: Nfana, the third eldest child. He is in the military and is posted in Francistown, so this was the first chance we have had to meet. Appropriately enough, he looks and sounds very similar to the other brothers, especially Sox. He is very nice, and even made porridge for dinner tonight (not sour, in case you were wondering). Other than that, I have been just typing up this blog post for the past 3.5 hours (now you can see why I don't edit, there's simply no time).

Before I embark on a much needed slumber, I will just mention the importance of coffee to my everyday life. It never used to be this way, but I find that I need coffee in the morning to really get going. Despite my coffee currently being Frisco instant coffee and chicory drink, rather than the fair trade whole bean Guatemalan coffee (Actually, if I had to choose, and I am by no means any expert whatsoever, I would choose Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee. Now that is some serious coffee.), to start my morning off even with the smell is somehow extremely refreshing to me. I remember when I was interning at the Library of Congress, I found myself resorting to coffee every morning ($1.15 for a small).

And a final note for the night. When Sarah, Dan, and I were talking, we came up with some interesting common observations. During our discussion, I realized that we seem to experience some sort of culture shock every time we go from our village into Gaborone, or vis versa. From sand roads, cows and chickens, and trash pits, to sidewalks, malls, and recycle bins (although, I've only seen a recycle bin at the Embassy and the University). I don't know if one puts the other into perspective, or what, but it is truly interesting the contrast of life separated by a 40 minute bus ride (which is another form of culture, on its own).

3/20

Greetings my fellow (virtual) weary travelers. I do apologize for the delay in posting, but this past week has simply been exhausting, with meetings and trips every day, both of which I will discuss in the following paragraphs. So, let me whisk you away to a magical place called last Thursday, March 12th.

On Thursday (3/12), Sarah and I decided to head to Gaborone to meet with a travel agent at Harvey Travel, on the recommendation of Dan. There we laid out the ideal travel plans, including South Africa, Namibia, Zambia, Lesotho, Mozambique, and yes, even Zimbabwe. We are still waiting to hear what our travel agent was able to accomplish, and perhaps today (Friday) we will find out. I should add that Sarah and I did successfully get more pages added to our passports on Wednesday at the US Embassy. The importance of this is that South Africa requires us (US citizens) to have two blank pages in our passports per request of entry. So, as of earlier in the week, Sarah and I would have only been able to enter South Africa one time. This put the initial damper on the India plans, as it was much more expensive to fly out of Gaborone than Johannesburg, but now since we have blank pages A through W, it is no problem. So if the southern Africa plans fall through, Mumbai her we come (for $425 round trip!).

After meeting the travel agent, we headed to River Walk Mall, more specifically Linga Longa (where everybody knows your name, well, not really, but we go there enough that they should know our names). There we met with the Library of Congress Nairobi Acquisitions Librarian. She is Kenyan and has worked for the Nairobi office for over ten years, acquiring materials for the Library of Congress from a variety of countries in southern Africa, including Botswana. The previous week she was in Namibia, and was now just finishing up her week in Botswana. She is one of four other acquisitions librarians at that office, which is one of six field offices in covering 29 counties worldwide aimed at of finding materials, namely current books and periodicals from local publishers, to ship back to the Library of Congress in Washington, DC. In fact, UW-Madison is a participant in this program, and along with the Library of Congress and other US universities, purchases items that these field officers acquire. It should also be noted that in the in addition to primary acquisitions of books and periodicals, they also collect local music and videos. And despite the fact that we see few books in the library from local publishers, we now understand that the Botswana publishing industry is actually thriving, and one of the stronger publishing industries in southern Africa.

Kabo, the librarian from Kopong arrived about half way through the meeting, only because the bus system can be a real struggle here, which is why Lucia was not able to make to the meeting. Luckily, she did make for an informal get-together between her, Kabo, Sarah, and myself. It was nice to socialize in a non-library setting (and in the company of a couple beverages, except Lucia, as she is pregnant).

After some time, we all parted ways and headed toward our respective buses, Kabo and Sarah together, and Lucia and me together. And believe it or not, now that some of the roads in Mmankgodi have had some dirt added to them, the bus actually drives into the village, thereby eliminating the 15 minute walk from the bus stop to my house, which is particularly helpful when I arrive after dark and there is no moon to guide my way.

Math and potatoes occupied the rest of night. I made the now usual potato wedges and helped Topo with some math homework. Ah, the lost art of long division, how I don't miss you.

As for Friday, it began with some more statistics, which has nearly come to end, in fact. I then took the bus (are you seeing a trend?) to Gaborone, and went to Main Mall with Sarah. There we ordered the veggie burger, but don't be confused, there was actually no burger element involved. In fact, it was simply some vegetables on a bun (and of course a frilly toothpick), with some French fries. Regardless, it was good, probably better than any burger could have been, and with a milkshake on the side, lunch was a success. Now, on Friday we were planning on staying at Professor Angelina Totolo's house because Louise (Dr. Louise Robbins, UW-Madison's School of Library and Information Studies Director) and her husband arrived that night, and we intended on meeting them early Saturday morning in the city. We were still planning on staying with Professor Totolo, however, our plans changed slightly between the time after lunch and the time we were to arrive at Angelina's. Receiving a call from Dan Saint-Rossy, the Director of Public Affairs at the US Embassy, he informed us that the US Ambassador (oddly enough, I cannot remember his name. There may have been a “Paul” involved, or not. We'll just call him Mr. Ambassador) would be at the University of Botswana for an AIDS/HIV prevention campaign. So, we decided to attend, and after purchasing an inexpensive button-up long-sleeve shirt for myself, as I was dressed pretty informally, we headed to the university. There we wandered around aimlessly for what seemed to be close to an hour. Finally, convincing ourselves that we were not going to find the event's location, we asked the UB Library security guard. He gladly walked us half way to our seemingly hidden destination, of which was located on a part of the campus that we had no idea even existed! It was near a very new and contemporary school of business building, near the university pool. There we found Dan at the outdoor amphitheater, and soon after we meet Mr. Ambassador. With any luck, I will be able to arrange a meet with the Ambassador in Mmankgodi to see the library, although it certainly seems that not many people get out to Mmankgodi, for some reason. After the Ambassador said a few words to the small crowd gathered under the modern-style overhand of the amphitheater, Angelina showed up to take us to her house for the night.

Well I must say, I was tempted to pack my suitcases and move in with Angelina and her husband and son in a suburb called Phakalane. It wasn't just the pool, the delicious food, magazine cover worthy kitchen, the double bed, private bathrooms, or the showers (well, it was partly those things), but it was the sense of refuge that being at her home produced. It was an escape from both the city life and village life that Sarah and I take part in every day. In no way does this reduce the level of kindness offered by those we encounter on a daily basis, or diminish our positive sense of the quality of life in both the villages and the city. Rather, it simply gives us a place to relax in complete comfort. We are both extremely appreciative of Angelina's kindness (and I'm not just saying that because I know she's reading this!), and as we have said before, would be lost without the support of her and Professor Mnjama both socially and professionally. And I should add, that night I had the best sleep I have had since arriving (and probably before arriving) in Botswana.

Waking fully rested on Saturday morning (3/14), Sarah and I had some cereal for breakfast. Now I now Sarah has had her share of Rice Crispies during her mornings at Kopong, but this was my first bowl of cereal since leaving the US, and it was great. I love cereal, I could literally eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was a great treat.

3/21

Speaking of cereal and Saturday mornings, I am writing to you from the poolside at Angelina's humble abode. Despite the clouds and cool temperatures, Sarah is actually in the pool enjoy a swim. We had freshly brewed coffee this morning, some eggs, and of course, the aforementioned cereal. It was great.

Getting back to last Saturday, Sarah and I met Louise and Robbie at the National Museum in the city center. They had seemed to have recovered as much as can be expected from the 15 hour flight. Professor Mnjama picked them up from the airport upon their arrival the previous night. It was great seeing a familiar face, and very good to meet Robbie, Louise's husband. After greeting each other, the four of us walked to the near by accommodation where Louise and Robbie were staying, loaded up their rental car (a four door white Toyota Yaris) and embarked on our journey to Kopong Library to sit in on a Library Youth Club.

3/22

After the conclusion of the library meeting, Sarah, Louise, Robbie, and I headed back to Gaborone and eventually found our way to River Walk mall, and to the now infamous Linga Longa restaurant. I decided to go for a pizza, a whole one, and I couldn't leave without having the “health breakfast,” consisting of fresh fruit, yogurt, and muesli. There is nothing like finishing one meal with another meal, it was great, and I think there was also some coffee involved if I remember correctly. Angelina and her husband also joined us toward the end of our meal, which was a nice opportunity for Louise and her to catch up. After concluding our session of excessive caloric intake (well, it was probably mostly my session of excessive caloric intake), Sarah and I remained with Angelina and her husband, while Louise and Robbie made their way back to where they were staying in the heart of the downtown Gaborone.

As for Sarah and myself, we were happy to go with Angelina for another night at our home away from home, Phakalane. Being at the Professors' (yes, Angelina and her husband are both professors) house is so relaxing and comfortable, it makes it very difficult to return to our villages, but we seem to manage. That night, Saturday, we had a very nice beef stew with wonderful vegetables and some rice, and planned out our tentative trip around southern Africa, with some help from the Totolos. We even went on a virtual tour of Peru and Jamaica with some photos on my computer, not to mention looking at some photos I have taken here (most of which have yet to be posted online, unfortunately). The night ended with discussion of my camera, a Canon XS dslr with a Sigma 18mm-125mm OS lens and a Sigma 70mm macro lens, both which have and continue to serve me quite well here.

Sunday, 3/15, began with some name brand Corn Flakes and instant coffee, which paved the way to a meeting with Bob Rothschild, of the Bob and Sarah Rothschild Foundation, which is the primary reason for our being here. Bob has an agreement with the Botswana government to build 2 libraries a year for the next ten years, two of which have already passed. Mmankgodi and Kopong libraries are two libraries that were a result of this arrangement. However, since the global economic downturn, the foundation's fund has been cut in half, and therefore it seems that the number of libraries built each year will be limited to only one.

The meeting was very interesting, I should say. It was nice to finally meet Bob, and put a personality with a name and face (from pictures). Bob used to be the owner of a successful jam and jelly company, but sold both the company and name in the last year or two, as is my understanding. Bob knows what he wants, and is passionate about accomplishing the expectations he sets for himself and for others. It is clear that he, among many other people involved, are somewhat frustrated with the current library situation in Botswana, again which is part of why we are here. Anyhow, after leaving the meeting, most of us with raised blood pressure, Louise, Robbie, Sarah, and I went to Game City to try a coffee shop. Well, after the power went out for the city, or at least the mall, the choices of food were quite limited. Luckily, we have developed a liking for the fruit and yogurt type meal, which was on the menu, and satisfied all of our appetites.

After eating, we parted ways with Sarah and headed to Mmankgodi, arriving at the library locked, and either there was no guard there, or he was asleep (most likely the latter, from what I hear). So, instead of touring the library (of which I impressed that I was able to direct us to the library by car, since I only walk in the village and take short cuts. Don't worry, I already patted myself on the back), we went to my family's house, and I introduced a few members to Louise and Robbie, and gave the whirlwind tour of my house, with the highlight being the now world famous inflatable mattress. KB then guided us to the village grave yard, which looking back, was sort of a random place to visit. After briefly touring the very different graveyard from those in the US, storm clouds began to roll over the hills and towards the village. Before the clouds had a chance to rain down on the village, Louise and Robbie opted to head back to Gaborone, avoiding the autumnal showers all together.

Later, I found out that on Saturday night I had missed what seemed to be the equivalent of an exorcism, or at least similar. KB informed me that a cousin of the family had been visited by his late grandmother a number of times. The cousin informed his church, and they set up an event in which there was a lot of drumming, the sacrifice of a “beast” (a cow), and praying all night long. I was extremely sorry to learn that I had missed this event, since these are the sort of rituals that I am very interested in. Being a religious studies undergraduate, with a senior thesis in the burial rituals of pre-Christian Celtic religion, and also pursuing, (at least for a short time, as Arnot knows!) some additional studies in pre-Christian Celtic religion at the University of Edinburgh, in Scotland, make these sorts of events right up my alley. Unfortunately, I missed it, but perhaps with any luck, there will be another one before I leave.

Moving on to Monday, 3/16, Sarah had arranged a visit for everyone to the Kitsong technology center in Letlhakeng, about two hours west of Kopong. To get there, Lucia and I had to catch the usual two combi route to Molepolole, one from Mmankgodi to Thamaga, and from Thamaga to Moleps. There we headed towards the Molepolole public library where Max works. Soon after Louise, Robbie, Sarah, Kabo, and the Kopong library committee showed up in a combi that Louise had rented for the day. Before heading to the Kitsong center (which is under the Ministry of Information and Technology, and provides technological resources for the surrounding communities. Basically, it's a library without books), we stopped at the new Molepolole library, which I had previously visited over the past couple of weeks. It was just as stunning as my first visit, and I think everyone was impressed with the architecture, despite only nearing the final stages of construction. Upon our arrival to the Kitsong center, we seemed to have surprised the man in charge; however, he still provided us with good overall information and a nice introduction to the services they offer. The visit, itself, was productive, and the scenery on the way there was just as interesting.

Heading back to Kopong, Lucia and I decided to ride back with Louise and Robbie to Gaborone, before catching the bus back to Mmankgodi. We felt it would be easier than trying to negotiate the inconsistent schedules of the combi routes from Moleps to Mmankgodi. We all also decided to stop for a bit to eat before parting ways, which always seemed to find its way into our busy schedule for that week. We ate at Cafe Portugal at Game City, and it was actually a bit expensive, in my opinion (of course, I am a poor graduate student currently with no income, so my opinion of expensive may differ from yours). Louise and Robbie had some beef and rice, if I remember correctly, and I had a seafood salad (nothing compared to El Pescador in Madison, but good nonetheless), and Lucia had some chicken, I think (to be honest, the meals are sort of blending together at this point, but I think those were the orders, as if anyone really cared anyways!!). After that, Lucia made arrangements with a friend of hers heading to Mmankgodi to pick us up, thereby avoiding the congested and chaotic bus rank, all together.

Are you sick of reading yet? Feel free to take a break, I won't be offended.

So Tuesday, Bob had informed us of a meeting with the Gates Foundation at Kopong Library, and wanted Sarah and me to be there. This time, BNLS had arranged transport for us, so Lucia and I simply waited to be picked up. Before leaving, I should note that I finally finished the adult statistics, at least regarding the overall statistics regarding activities and visitation. Our transport was a truck, however, with enough room in the cab for one driver and one pregnant lady, so I sat in the bed, luckily it had a topper so I was at least sheltered from the wind (and fresh air, it got hot in that thing). Louise was at the University on Tuesday, so she was not able to attend the meeting, but Lucia, Sarah, Bob, Kabo, myself, and a couple of other people were able to attend, and met with three men, from the Gates Foundation and ACHAP. We basically discussed the instruction that the foundation was providing for computer training of library staff. The chain of command is that Gates subcontracts to ACHAP which subcontracts to Tiny Shed, and it is that company that comes to the library and provides the training. Out of the meeting, we basically established the lack of and importance of pre and post assessment and evaluation, and how crucial follow up is when it comes to this sort of skills training. If anything, a healthy line of communication was either established or strengthened as a result of the meeting. Like I said earlier, Bob has a passion for getting things done, and when he is around, people tend to move a little faster than usual, hence the meeting with these individuals on a one day notice.

Before the meeting, Sarah and I picked up some tea and cookies, and paid for them ourselves since the library has no money. I mention this not for the sake of the monetary aspect, but as a metaphor for the current situation for the local libraries.

After arriving back in Mmankgodi, and breathing some fresh air after the ride, I retired from the library for the day. That evening, Sox was the one who made pancakes! So if nothing else, I will leave behind the legacy of pancakes in Botswana after leave, although I do hope I leave more than just that (including the recipe for potato wedges, too). After the pancakes, Sox even made some potato wedges/crisps, and they were delicious, probably better than I make. So, he has now mastered my skills of the culinary persuasion, I'll have to come up something else to make now. I should say that another legacy I leave here will be the magic of peanut butter. I believe I have sufficiently demonstrated the many ways in which peanut butter can be eaten, including on bread with honey, in cookies, and on apples. Perhaps bumps on a log (peanut butter on celery with raisins) will soon make an appearance. Anyhow, the night ended with my playing “Crazy Eights” with Topo, and finally me manipulating the statistics I have been taking in order to present to Wednesday's meeting between BNLS, UB, our libraries, and Louise. This delayed my bedtime to 1am, as opposed to the usual 10pm.

Having prepared a number of graphs, representing about half of what I hope to have done by the time I leave here, I headed with Lucia to BNLS headquarters at around 8am. There we meet Phodiso Tube (BNLS director), Professors Mnjama and Totolo, Louise, our Kabo and Sarah, and Max. It was quite the meeting, and the first time seeing Phodiso since week one. The meeting produced some positive discussion about the issues facing the librarians, and some potential solutions to those issues. Sarah and I then discussed basically what we have been doing during our entire time here. I then presented the statistics in graph format in a power point presentation covering topics such as circulation, visitation, activities, ages, and gender, in regard to both children and adults at Mmankgodi library, spending a significant chunk of time discussing the implications the data showed. I felt this was a good opportunity to demonstrate to everyone what I had been working on for the past weeks, and to my satisfaction, everyone responded very positively to this approach of assessment. The meeting lasted for a few hours, consisting of good communication and exchanges of ideas, which is exactly what is necessary to establish what the problems are, and how go about overcoming them.

As the noon hour approached, we all prepared for lunch at a very nice restaurant with, again, a Portuguese theme. It was nice to simply be in a social setting with everyone, proving to be very conducive for open conversation to occur. I had a chicken dish with a tomato based balsamic sauce, and rice. After lunch, Sarah and I took a detour to the Embassy to get some pages added to our passports. I believe I explained earlier the passport requirements to get into South Africa, so after getting inside and waiting for about an hour, we ended up with pages A though W added to our passport. Not to mention it was free. After leaving the Embassy, we tracked down Louise and Robbie, and we all met up with Dan Saint-Rossy to have a birthday dinner, in honor of my birthday the following day. It was very nice and generous for everyone to get together for such an occasion, and it was definitely appreciated. We ate a hip Italian restaurant in River Walk, and it was nice to have Louise and Dan finally meet, as they have heard so much about each other from both Sarah and me over the past seven weeks. I did not expect anything to happen for my birthday, as well, but was pleasantly surprised with this dinner, which was very thoughtful, and nice to be surrounded by friends. From there, Dan dropped us off at the bus rank, and Sarah and I made our way home. Again, I cannot stress enough how different life is from day to day for both Sarah and me here. One minute we are meeting the US Ambassador, rubbing elbows with professors and directors of government departments, and the next minute we are crammed into hot, often non-working buses, and walking on dirt roads to our houses in our respective villages. The difference of life style is so drastic at times, it can be shocking. Nonetheless, we adjust every time we shift from one life style to another, and carry on with the tasks ahead of us.

I will also say that having Louise and Robbie her over the past week was a treat, indeed. At times it felt like my parents were visiting, as I introduced them to my host family and showed them around Mmankgodi. At other times, it felt as though friends were visiting, which is always welcome when you are far from home.

3/23

Thursday, 3/19, began by meeting Louise and Robbie at the kgotla, the village meeting structure in Mmankgodi. Yes, they made it here all by themselves! So we greeted each other and then I some how guided us, once again, to the library (which continually impresses me). We had planned for Thursday morning to be Thursday Mmankgodi Morning, since it often seems that Mmankgodi somehow gets lost in the shuffle when it comes to visitors from outside of the village. Regardless, Louise and Robbie were both impressed with library, itself, and I only wish they could see it now after a few rearrangements that took place earlier today. This includes moving one computer from behind the circulation desk to a public table, moving the plant next to that computer, shifting the “culture corner” to another table top and moving some of the items on the tops of book shelves, and displaying the magazines and brochures where we used to keep government publications. Not only does the library look better, it has increased warmth about it and seems even more inviting. Anyhow, so after hand delivering some UW-Madison t-shirts and loads of new computer software (thanks LIS 640 class), the three of us headed to my place of residence (which again, I impressed myself by being able to navigate our way via car which sounds easy, but unfortunately we could not drive over the large metal water pipe that I simply step over every day, thereby forcing an alternative route).

After arriving at my house, Louise and Robbie finally met my host parents, both of them. I then prepared some tea and cookies, as per the request of my host-father, in which he has informed me on multiple occasions that in Botswana culture, when someone visits, you must have tea or a meal with them, but we only had time for the former. Although, the tea and cookies were also accompanied by some fresh oranges from the trees in the backyard. I probably commented on this already, but my memory is not what it used to be (actually, it was never what it used to be). These oranges appear to be limes, with their green outer skin, but once you peel that away, a sweet juicy orange is revealed. I could eat them all day (keeping in the mind the guava situation, of course). In addition to all of these edible items, good conversation was also present. My host father had arranged a meeting with the chief of the village for 1pm, so we had some time to do a little sight seeing around the area. This began with visiting the rock paintings at Manyana, which are dated to be around 2000 years old. Of the three or four we saw, I have to say the giraffe paintings were the neatest (and most recognizable). To our surprise (not counting that the place was actually open), the man running the show (and he was very informative, to say the least, giving us a lot of background information about the paintings and area) insisted we visit the Livingstone Tree on the other side of Manyana (which was about a 3 minute drive). What we saw when we got there was spectacular, especially for a tree lover, like myself. It was a massive tree where the missionary David Livingstone had performed certain medical or religious practices on villagers, perhaps 100 years ago or so. This tree was massive in terms of its core trunk being split into three slightly smaller trunks appearing to literally burst from the earth in which it is rooted. We actually walked under it, as though entering a dome of foliage. The fact that there was historical significance was definitely a side note, because the tree itself was worth visiting on its own.

After a short and scenic drive back towards Mmankgodi, we decided to stop by the Cultural Village, which is just down the main road from the village. There they have seemingly ordinary huts set up, but very extraordinary internal construction to those very same huts, consisting of private bathrooms and very comfortable looking beds (or course, my standard of comfortable beds has gone under significant revision since leaving home). These modern huts can be rented out for 200 pula a night, which isn't too bad. The “village” also has cultural events, food, and other activities that are put on as part of the Botswana Tourist Board. I hope I can find time to return there and take advantage of what's offered.

After walking through the bush surrounding the cultural village, we returned to Mmankgodi (and I should also add that KB and Sox were with us as we visited Manyana and the Village) for our 1pm meeting with the Chief. We figured it would be mostly a nice gesture or even a formality, which it turned out to be, but it was still nice for him to take the time and invite us into his home. The chief is an elderly man, and didn't talk very much. We ended up giving him a ride from the government buildings near the “downtown” of Mmankgodi (meaning, the area next to the kgotla, a small convenience shop, and a butcher, also the same location where the paved road ends) to his nearby home. We (Louise and my host father) did most of the talking, I have him a brand new Mmankgodi Community Library brochure, and after about ten minutes Louise, Robbie, and I headed for Gaborone before heading to Kopong.

Mmankgodi, Gaborone, and Kopong roughly form a “V” shape, with Gabs being in the middle, so it is actually quite a pain in the neck (among other places after sitting for so long) to go from Mmankgodi to Kopong, or vis versa. That said, we stopped for a late lunch in Gaborone, at none other than Linga Longa. There I ordered my craved fruit and yogurt meal, of which I am aware I have talked about way too much. After lunch, destination: Kopong. The president was scheduled to speak at Kopong and have a fire chat with some elders at 4:30 at the library kgotla. Well, as expected, the library aspect never took place. We arrived around 4pm, and were actually seated with the village elders to the side of the large tent covering the president and other persons of significance, despite the rest of the area being extremely crowded. I had a few nice shots of the president (this time in a dress suit, not a jogging suit on a bike, if you recall from an earlier post), but nothing to write home about, well, I guess I sort of am writing home about it, aren't I? Regardless, I did not meet the president, but I was about 30 feet away from him, that's not too bad (although that would have been quite the birthday to remember, meeting the President of Botswana, I suppose there's always next year?).

So, before the event ended (actually much before the event ended, as Sarah later informed me it went into the early night time hours), Louise, Robbie, and I headed back to Gabs, where we quickly said our goodbyes, and I jumped out (no tuck and roll involved) and headed to the bus rank to catch old Mercedes diesel bus with a small sign inside the windshield saying “Manyana.” If I recall, I believe the engine didn't start until some significant banging of a metal rod on either the valve cover, exhaust manifold, engine block, or all of the above, which somehow resulted in the engine starting (and a dose of carbon monoxide since the engine is accessed from within the bus, next to the driver's seat). From here, this was the end of our week with Louise and Robbie, and I think despite having accomplished a lot, with the potential of doing even more, we were all happy to take a break from the seemingly non-stop meetings and stressful driving.

Friday, 3/20, it began as a typical day in the library. Although, I did hear and then see my host father driving around with loudspeakers mounted to the roof of his truck, announcing something to do with politics. I know he had a political rally, which from my understanding is similar to what I encountered, only instead of driving, the rally stationary. The elections will be in October, but as with all political elections, preparation begins early. Oh, and I also learned that Sarah and I had been on the previous night's news, walking in front of the parliament. I didn't see it, but I think it was just a random shot that we happened to be in, but regardless, pretty cool. In fact, Lucia also told me that she saw us on the news. As the afternoon neared, Sarah and I made our way to Game City. Actually, I waited at the bus stop for about 30 minutes, only to be passed by my bus because it was already full (it was the short bus). So, I finally decided to hitch hike by myself. I put my left hand out, with my fingers together, making a waving motion that moves the palm of my hand from facing the ground to facing my legs, as though I'm waving at the ground. A car pulled over with two elderly women already in it, and then I and another random person crowded in the back. Before getting in, they ask where you're going, I answered Gaborone, and luckily for me, that was her destination as well. Upon arriving into the city, it has started to rain. The woman dropped me off about a mile from Game City, and I proceeded to walk. Fortunately I did bring my umbrella, but I can't exactly say I was having fun by that time. In addition, I also had a headache, and was carrying my normal camera bag and another bag with clothes in it to wash at Angelina's (I know, it sounds tacky bringing it with me, but they have a washing machine! You would, too, if a bathtub and your hands was the only alternative). Oh, and I should mention because of our bad judgment of time, we were late to Angelina's class, as we got caught in rush hour traffic, in a combi (not a good combination, no pun intended). Furthermore, we had to switch combis, which we did, but then we weren't quite sure how to tell them to stop (see, every other time, either people get out when we get out, or our destination was the last stop on that route, so we had never experienced how to say stop), so we sort of got a short tour of “the other side of the tracks,” as it seemed. But, we got on another combi going back the way we came, towards the University, and as we approached it, I said this was our stop. That's all it took, of course, and we had finally arrived, and considering the journey there, were only 30 minutes late.

The class was on information use and users, and after some open discussion about the reference interview, and the balance between avoiding intrusion and acquiring enough background information, a student gave a presentation on the theory of radical change, which proved to be very interesting. Although, I wish my head had felt better, but I was still happy to have taken part in the class, and look forward to the next time.


The night was another pleasant and relaxing Friday night at Angelina's house. A very nice dinner, good conversation, an the ache in my head finally departed. The morning was just as pleasant, with some eggs that Sarah made, and fresh coffee (yes, real coffee, not instant coffee and chicory blend, but real coffee brewed from a coffee maker! It was excellent). After digesting for a while, Angelina wanted to know if we wanted to join their friends for lunch, at their friends' house. Of course it would have been rude to refuse, right? (that is a joke, not only because we are both poor graduate students, but also because the weekends at Angelina's have sort of become our sanctuary, and our only plans for the weekend were to simply stay there anyhow! Thank you, as always, Angelina!). Lunch was simply amazing, and I am not just saying that to be polite. It was as though we were staying at a five star hotel. There was beef, chicken, fish, salad, pasta, beans, rice, and beats, and yes, this was only one meal! Everything was great, and was served in very nice silver (as in the metal) containers on a table outside near the pool. And for dessert, for which there is always room, it consisted of a huge fruit salad, ice cream, and a chocolate cake that Sarah and I quickly threw together earlier in the morning. I was so full (and being surrounded by Lucia, who is pregnant, I feel that measuring my fullness in terms of pregnancy is only appropriate, leaving me to rate my fullness feeling to about four months pregnant (actually, I have no idea what four months pregnant is like, or even looks like, for that matter. The point is, I ate too much, as usual)).

The rest of the day consisted of digesting, “resting our eyes,” and debating if we should go back to our respective villages that night. Well, what do you think we decided? Good guess, you're right, we ended up staying the night, again. This time we actually went out and met up with Kabo, Sarah's librarian. We went to Linga Longa for a few drinks; however, it actually closed at 11pm, far from the 2:30am bar time in Madison (at least that's what I've heard). There are actual clubs around the city that are open later, but by the time our ride (Kabo's friend) picked us up and having managed to find our way to Angelina's (her neighborhood is very maze-like when you are unfamiliar with it, especially in the dark, but the combination of our landmark recognition and her directions, eased the discomfort of being lost in a concrete maze, and we found our way after only a few wrong turns), 11pm had somehow turned into 1am. They insist it was no problem, but Sarah and I still felt bad coming in so late, particularly since we had intended on being back much earlier. Regardless, it was a fun night, and for once we were able to be out in Gabs past our usual 7pm-last-bus time.

Coffee was again on the menu for Sunday morning, as were cornflakes and another egg sandwich prepared by Sarah. A good portion of that morning was taken up by me writing part of this blog, which is way too long, and way overdue, so I apologize. Anyhow, after lunch (the Totolo's are so generous!!) Sarah and I caught a ride to the bus rank with Angelina's son, eventually parting ways, once again, and heading back to our villages. Oddly enough, I ran into Lucia on my bus, she was returning from a bridal shower for her sister over the weekend. So, we chatted for a good portion of the ride, and Maola (the eldest brother in my family) picked us up since it was dark, Lucia is pregnant, I'm foreign, and there was no moon. I then readjusted to life here, chatted with the family (including enduring a few guilt trips for being gone over the weekend, but mostly nothing serious), had some local chicken, judging from the pile of feathers in the backyard (apparently it is customary that the children get the feet, so I was sitting with Topo and Thabiso as they ate their meals, but Thabiso insisted that he did not know how to eat “feet meat,” and I found that term so amusing, that I felt it necessary to include it. In the end, he did eat his feet meat, with no problem, in case you were wondering, and I know you were) and went to bed. What a week.

Today, Monday 3/23, I got up at 6:30am, as per usual, had some porridge and oranges (I love those things!), and ventured to the library. Today was a particularly great day at the library, in my opinion. After seeing the set up at Kopong's library, we decided to make a few changes here in Mmankgodi. We originally had HIV/AIDS publications and Government publications on the main display cabinet near the couches, and had the magazine behind the desk, along with the newspapers for the sake of people defacing them. But, today we moved all the magazines out for people to more easily access, moved the HIV/AIDS and Government publications to some open shelving near the reference section, cleared a table off that previously only held a multitude of brochures on its surface, and moved those brochures to some open space near the magazines. On the newly cleared table, we moved the “culture corner” so it is more of a focal point in the library. On the other table, that we also cleared of books, we took one of the two computers from behind the circulation desk, set it up, and it now has the internet on it, along with the other three nearby in their respective cubicles. This also freed up a shelf from behind the circulation desk now is in the reading area with other books on it, making the overall space behind the circulation desk significantly cleaner and more open. We just need to have the desk cut down to a normal level, so that the patrons can see us and we can see them. Finally, we took some of the larger cultural items and placed them on the tops of the bookshelves, and the library looks great. It feels more welcoming and much warmer, not to mention is more functional, in my opinion. Oh, and this also allowed us to take the books out of the window wells (I suppose that is what I would call them) that had no other shelving, brightening up the library as a whole. I also made created a tag for Botswana on the large world map that Louise was kind enough to bring. I always think it's important for people to know where they physically are in this world, and there is nothing better to help accomplish that than a large fold-out map of the world. We hung it in the children's section, and it is a great addition.

I left the library around 12:30pm today, and had some lunch, beef and maize meal, for lunch. I then headed to Gabs with Sox and KB, to meet Sarah. She and I had to go the travel agent because we had heard nothing from her, and time is ticking down. So, after she, the travel again, met our expectations (meaning, we figured it would be expensive, but dang, we didn't think that expensive. I'll let you use your imagination, but I'll say there were six pula figures involved), we decided to simply go the regional bus carrier, Intercape, and asked them about circuits of southern Africa. Basically, we can hit South Africa, Mozambique, and Namibia for around less than $300, and then we would probably fly from Namibia to Victoria Falls, and bus down to Gabs. We are not sure of the schedule yet, but by the end of this week we will have booked the tickets. And yes, the rides are long, but most of them are overnight, saving us on accommodation. This is the sort of traveling I am used to, so it's no problem for either of us. Did I mention it was cheap? So, we may even leave on this journey next week, with any luck, but we just have a few other scheduling things we need to figure out. We won't have much time in any one location, but it should be a good trek, nonetheless.

Sox, KB, and I then parted ways with Sarah, and we picked up some supplies for their mother, such as ten giant bags of cheetos! So, I'm in this store with Sox, and the place is nearly wall-to-wall with the ginormous (yes, that's a technical term) bags of what we call Cheetos. So, naturally, I reach for my camera phone and take some pictures, because I have never seen anything like it, and I know people wouldn't believe it unless they saw it for themselves. So, I take a few pictures, and then as I am standing next to Sox, what appeared to be the owner comes over to me and asks if he can help me. I replied, “no, I'm with him.” He then asked what's with all the pictures? And he seemed a bit agitated, as he was asking. Well, I wasn't in any mood for it, so calmly engaged in conversation with him, referring a few times to the fact that I see no sign saying anything about taking no pictures. Finally, he expressed his concern that I was some sort of reporter because I was wearing my library clothes (dress pants and shirt), and was worried the pictures would end up on the news. After standing my ground and clearing it up with this guy that I was not a reporter, he settled down, and initiated the typical chit-chat, “where are you from,” etc. Now I understand his concern, but it makes me wonder why he was so worried that I was taking pictures of his supply. Hmmmm....I'll let you come up with your own theories, as I already have mine.

Anyhow, before heading back, we stopped at Choppies to pick up some cornflakes and milk, as requested by my host father (and I also picked up a treat, this time some biscuits, for Topo and Thabiso, as I seem to do every time I go into the city), and then we set course for Mmankgodi. After greeting my dog (yes, I would like to take him home with me. I will certainly miss him when I leave. Luckily my parents' have a Pugoramma (again with the technical terms) that I very much look forward to seeing again), I started working on this post. That was a few hours ago. And now I am done, caught up, and hopefully with only a few handfuls of errors!

A Guava A Day, Keeps the Doctor Away (at least on Wednesdays)

2/26

I just returned from another walk with Sox, this time with the intention of seeing the President. This time, however, we were not so lucky, although we did not return empty handed. In fact, we ended up walking to Sox's grandmother's house on the way home, and of course we met Trevor there, the now famous dumpling chef. So, dumplings it was, and I don't think it's even necessary anymore to express my undying love for these simple little culinary creations (but I will: I love them!). We had them with some chopped onions and carrots, some canned peas, and a soup powder, mixing them together to form deliciousness. Before eating, we were greeted with a bag of milo (a fruit I believe I discussed a few weeks ago, that is about the size of large marble, has the consistency of a fig, and has two large and inedible seeds within it), and some much needed water. However, I should point out that it has now been two days since the town has had running water. It appears that each house is equipped with an outside underground tank of some sort, that acts like a water reserve for just such occasions. So, the water for porridge in the morning, as well as my bath, comes from that tank, brought in bucket by bucket. It does have a little rust tint to it, but we all need our iron, right? Back to the walk, after giving up about two hours into the hot and sunny walk, we decided to take a break on under a tree on the side of the road. There we rested (in the form of a nap) until we felt like walking again. I must admit, that by now, when I don't have a t-shirt on, I still look like I have a t-shirt on (farmer's tan at its best).

The morning began with some maize porridge (with tartaric acid), just as it ended with maize porridge (without tartaric acid). I most definitely prefer that latter, but the cheetos and cookies that accompanied the former were a nice addition. Today was all about statistics at the library. Last night I finished the children's statistics as far as date, age, activity, resident, and gender, for the past five months. Preliminary findings show that males make up 62% of the children patrons, whereas females are at 29%, with 9% unknown due to illegibility or failure to report. The average age for both groups is 10, and there has been just over 3,000 children in since September of last year. Of the female population, 42% report “reading” as their primary activity, representing the majority activity for that population. Males, on the other hand, report the majority activity of “games” at 38%. Not surprisingly, “games” makes up the majority of the total children's population primary activity at 34%, followed by 30% reporting “reading” as their primary activity. These are only preliminary, as I will continue to add data up to March 1. I have also collected the statistics for the adults, regarding the same information as the children, but have yet to compile them. Additionally, I have obtained the statistics regarding circulation (only as specific as Dewey Decimal main subject headings) for both items checked out and taken off the shelf, for children and adults. Some other information is also in my hands, and I will eventually add everything into a readable format, using charts and graphs to better and more clearly express the information represented by the data. The intent is for this information is to accompany a report discussing the strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats in the context of my library branch and BNLS.

Mar 3

I am sure glad that I take notes as each day passes, otherwise, I'm afraid that you wouldn't have much to read (which may not be that bad of a thing, you may say), as sometimes I feel like my memory has a maximum capacity, similar to that of a hard drive, and in order to store new information, I have to “trash” (recycle, or incinerate) the older information. However, looking to my flash drive (aka, notebook), I will attempt to retrace the events of the past five or six days, beginning with last Friday, February 27. As per the usual Friday morning, I headed to the bus stop, this time even earlier than the last. I was accompanied by Trevor and on our way to the stop, the village bus (a much nicer, smaller, and newer bus) came rolling by, so we were lucky enough to grab a seat (two to be exact) and we headed to Gaborone for the duration of the day. I don't believe that I have accurately described the typical bus that I take to Gaborone. Normally, when I'm not on the nice village bus, which comes only a few times a day, I take an old partially dilapidated 1970's school bus, with bench seats (room for four on one side and two on the other side), and windows that slide open from right to left. It is typically filled (when I say filled, I mean every single seat is filled, as well as the isle with people standing), but I have been quite lucky not to have to stand for the 45-60 minute ride (knock on wood, please). I suppose that is most likely due to the fact that upon returning to Mmankgodi, I board the bus early and sit there for an hour or two (I mean it), and don't even think about air conditioning, we're lucky if the bus makes it out of the bus rink. Speaking of which, a brief description of that consists of too many buses to count (all of the 1970's breed), all lined-up parallel to each other in a massive parking lot separated by tin shelters, curbs, and booths selling a variety of merchandise, not to mention the miniature oil slicks and potential for carbon monoxide poisoning. However, the system clearly works, as I have used it many times by now, and it only costs just over 6 pula for me to ride one way. Anyhow, where was I? Ah yes, going to Gaborone. So, Trevor and I met Sarah on the other side of the bus rink, to catch a combi to Riverwalk mall. Although, we parted ways with Trevor as he had some errands to run, but met up with him later in the morning. Upon our arrival to Riverwalk, we used the Internet (for two hours!), and I was able to upload a handful of pictures to my flickr account, at a rate of about one picture every 10-15 minutes (high speed compared to the library). After satisfying our thirst for cyberspace, we got some breakfast. We tried another variation on the fruit salad, this time with yogurt and muesli (granola for you Americans), and of course some coffee. After tooling around for a bit in the mall, we decided to try lunch at a restaurant called 25 Degrees, a pan-Asian joint. I wish I could say better things, but I was pretty disappointed with the food. I am by no means a food critic (I used to eat brown sugar sandwiches, for goodness sake), but my Pad Thai was nothing to brag about, especially the portion. I still find Vientiane’s Pad Thai and Pad Lao by far the best in the Madison area, and the portions, forget about it, they're huge! But it was worth a shot, and it was probably a matter of time before we ate there, so now we know. We also had an appetizer of the equivalent of Indian fried cheese curds.

After lunch, we opted to take a combi across town (technically city, but it's really not that big) to Game City Mall. Why, you ask? Well, it was to investigate that tacky lime green acoustic guitar I spotted the previous week. Returning to the shop, either the price had changed or memory was playing tricks on me, because the guitar was now 400 pula (about $50), and there were many of them. Green, red, sunburst, and black, and both classical and steel string guitars. They turned out to be made-in-China Samick guitars, a product of Henry Ford's assembly line concept. So, despite wanting to play pretty badly (not that I really have any time), I decided to wait on purchasing, plus I don't feel like dealing with bringing it home, I'm going to have enough to carry with all the Amarula I'm going to bring back!

So, we soon headed back to Mmankgodi, Sarah accompanying Trevor and me, to attending a wedding on Saturday. However, the ride took about twice as long due to a three car rear-ender on the narrow highway back to Mmankgodi, resulting in another walk in the pitch-black moonless night in Botswana, illuminating the Milky Way in such a way that it could only be classified as the Whole Milky Way (as opposed to a 1% Milky Way, and yes, I did just make a joke). Upon our arrival, I decided to make peanut butter cookies, for which I had gathered the necessary ingredients for earlier in the day. However, I was unsuccessful in locating brown sugar (the same used in my childhood sandwiches), so I just doubled the granulated sugar amount. There was a slight difference, as I think the brown sugar provides for a little more caramelization in the cookies, themselves, but as I just kept a closer eye on them to avoid burning. Also, we don't really have any sort of measuring equipments in the kitchen, so I basically guessed on the amounts, despite having a recipe. Surprisingly, they all turned out quite well, and were yet another success with my host family. I love peanut butter cookies.

Friday was an early night, as it had been a long day. And did I mention that we still didn't have running water? Well, we didn't since last Wednesday, and it was actually shoot and miss all weekend long. Luckily, we now have running water, and my daily baths don't have to come from a bucket.

Saturday was a wedding. We were given mixed instructions on when to attend, but finally, after waiting a few hours, we headed what we would call a reception at a nearby house. Apparently, the wedding, itself, was held the previous weekend, but even so, everyone standing in the wedding was in the full attire, including the bride and groom. We watched as the a small convoy of combis and cars raced through the narrow sand paths/roads as they returned from retrieving the bride from a nearby house. With horns blaring, they pulled up, and danced their way through the threshold of the fence surrounding the house. Eventually, everyone was seated under the tent that had been erected for the wedding, as the approaching rain made its debut. Under the tent were tables with centerpieces, and enough chairs to (un)comfortably fit everyone in. After some announcements and speeches (needless to say, not in English) we feasted. They had slaughtered a cow the previous day, the all that was left it were a number of large plastic bowls filled to the top with shredded beef that must have been boiling for quite some time. I believe a deli is the only other place you'll see so much meat in one place. With the meat was maize, squash, beats, stew, rice, and coleslaw. It was a very good meal. We followed the meal with some wine, which each table was equipped with one bottle. It didn't last long. Soon after, we left the wedding with KB and Trevor, and headed to a local bar, actually. There we tried some of this Arabian Coffee Liquor, mixed with milk. Not bad. After becoming exhausted from the “festivities,” Sarah and I returned home to reminisce about the events of the day, and our experiences so far.

Sunday morning consisted of more cooking. In fact, it began with pancakes, led to chocolate cake, and ended with dumplings. The problem with the pancakes was that I added too much sugar to the batter, and it was sticking to the pan. I took note, and will not make that mistake again. The chocolate cake was another two-layer cake, this time with a coffee flavored icing. On Friday I bought some instant coffee (which I have been enjoying in the mornings), and so I decided to add some to my powdered sugar, margarine, and milk mixture. It was excellent, I highly recommend trying it. Again, no measuring took place during any of this baking, so it always turns out a little different. Finally, Trevor provided instruction on how to make dumplings. I attempted them, but I was not impressed with my (lack of) dumpling-making-skills. I will continue practicing, and hope that by the time I return, I will be able to make them properly. Mine ended up being pretty dense (but if you like doughy, dense, rubbery, bread, then perhaps I have already perfected them), but I enjoyed them nonetheless. Oh, and I put the leftover icing on the pancakes; wow.

I had intended on doing some laundry, especially since we had water at the time, but I just didn't get around to it. I hated doing regular laundry at home with the aid of a machine, can you imagine my feeling towards doing it by hand!? Eventually, I walked Sarah to the bus stop (all by myself, might I add), and she caught a combi back to Gabarone, to catch a bus back to Kopong.

This is the strangest March I have every experienced. It am obviously so used to it being cold, snowy, and/or being sick, but here I am in what feels to be the middle of summer. It is a bit confusing, to be honest. My seasonal clock (is there really such a thing?) is a bit out of whack, but at least I'm getting plenty of vitamin D.

Monday morning consisted of more statistical compilation and a tour of the local clinic. The clinic was established in 1971, and consists of a one-level concrete building structure, painted green and tan, with about eight rooms and a long hallway. (It brought back memories of when I was in Poland and had to go to the urgent care at the hospital in Krakow for stomach pains. It is always very interesting to see health facilities in different countries. However, the clinic here just doesn't have that Soviet feeling that the one in Poland so stereotypically screamed) It is called the Scottish Livingstone Clinic, and as indicated by the large number of people waiting, is utilized by the local community. I was given a tour by the health education officer, one of the very few staff members. In fact, there are four nurses, one doctor that comes only on Wednesdays, one ambulance, two trailers (semi style) that are used for counseling space, and couple storage structures, an incinerator (which is where they put the placentas after birth, how's that for trivia?), and some outdoor bathrooms. It is open seven days a week, and serves about 600-700 patients every month. There is a pharmacy, called a dispenser, as well as an outdoor covered seating area, a bit different from your typical waiting room, that's for sure. There was a computer in the clinic; however, it didn't work, I was told. I also saw the maternity ward, a bit different from the one on Scrubs (or your choice of medical television program), to say the least. I was also asked if I was married, just as a side note.

After the lengthy walk back with Lu Lu, I outlined essentially what I envision for the rest of my time here. This includes working on some proposals and programming, in addition to statistics. I hope to work with designing programs related to CV/Resume training, book clubs, computer training with emphasis on typing skills, a chess club, a library orientation, and an official library brochure that can be used for promotional purposes. If not all of these projects get off the ground before we leave, I hope to have a least a written proposal for each one, in addition to the formal report on the state of the library including the statistics that I have been working with. Although, many of these things are very difficult to complete without a working printer. Of the nearly five weeks I have been here, we have had a working printer for one week, and that was a loaner that ran out of ink. Lucia continues to contact those responsible for fixing the printer, but is simply given the run-around, and we still have no working printer. It is quite frustrating, and really seems to be a metaphor for most things the library is struggling with. I am still not sure how to overcome over-centralization and typical governmental bureaucracy, but will continue to try (somehow). Before returning to the library, we stopped by Mmonye Primary School, and I talked to the some members of the administration about arranging a meeting with them, Lucia, and myself to discuss their progress on establishing a library, as well as just initiating communication between the two educational bodies in order to create a complementary relationship. They seemed cautiously interested, at least that's what I was able to pick up between Setswana that comprised the majority of the “conversation.” So, I was told that they would follow-up with me perhaps on Tuesday.

In the afternoon, I caught a bus out of Mmankgodi to Gaborone. This time I was attending Professor Mnjama's class with Sarah, on outreach and archives. Sarah and I eventually made our way to the University, and were greeted by Professor Mnjama. Soon we went to his class of about 15, where we sat in on a presentation by an archivist from the Botswana National Archives, followed by open discussion. It actually felt really good to be in a classroom setting again (I know, all my peers back home are groaning at that statement). We even set up a tour of the archives for the next morning. Since the buses only run until about 7pm, and our class ran from 5-7pm, Professor Mnjama was kind enough to let us stay at his house. And what a house was it! It was like we were on a one-night vacation from our respective villages. Not only was there running water, there was water pressure, no bugs (aka mosquitoes), a normal double mattress (non-inflatable and off the ground), a shower (my second shower since arriving), no sand, and an incredible meal prepared by Professor Mnjama's wife. The meal consisted of chapatti (flat bread), fried beef, rice, baked beans, pilan (rice and beef dish), mango juice, and chai tea. The servant (yup) then cleaned up after dinner, and we chatted about some of the challenges we are facing at our libraries. Professor Mnjama is an incredible generous and genuine person, giving us advice and perspective. Not to mention how helpful and kind his wife also is. They were both very interested in hearing about our adventures and experiences so far, and offered any information that they felt helpful. In fact they are both from Kenya, and speak Swahili as their native tongue, in addition to superb English (probably better than mine). So we learned that he actually doesn't know Setswana, to our surprise, and his had to learn it in order to help her at her job (which, might I add, is as a librarian). So, to say the least (and I speak for myself), it was just very relieving to hear that information, as I faced some issues with the language barrier working at the local library. Additional conversation centered around Professor's Mnjama's background, which included time in London and Cambridge, and trips to the US, in addition to his 13 years at the University of Botswana. He was also kind enough to show us some pictures from his home in Kenya, which he and his wife maintain and visit at least twice a year. It is beautiful, and sits very near to the Kenyan coast. He also provided us with some advice about traveling in the area, which we intend on doing in the near future (which may include an excursion to Zambia, as well as Mozambique). After I failed to exercise discipline with overeating at dinner, I soon retired to my (large) bed. Although, I ate so much I felt like I was pregnant (well, I actually have no idea what that is like, but if I had to imagine, I would imagine it felt like I felt like after I consumed what seemed to be twice my body weight in rice and beef (don't judge, I missed lunch that day)). Eventually I was able to fall asleep and didn't need to cover my entire body up to avoid getting bit while I slept. It was excellent.

In the morning, after a nice hot (pressurized) shower, and a delicious omelet, coffee, and toast, we left with Professor Mnjama to take a quick driving tour of the government/financial district of Gaborone. Sarah and I eventually parted ways with the professor, and met Moses (he was at the class the night before) for a tour of the National Archives. The tour took about 1.5 hours, and we were given access to what seemed to be everywhere, including the conservation department, reprographer (microfilmer), the reading/reference room, and the stacks, which was extremely well organized. Apparently, there had not been over five archivists employed at one time before this year, in which there are now ten. Although the conservation room was very nice, stocked with very familiar looking equipment including presses, microscopes, scanners, and a hood vent, there was nothing going on because of funding, is my understanding. However, the conservator said he will soon be going to the UK for a two year program on conservation, and hopes that the next time we visit there will be some ongoing projects for us to see. Again, because of staff limitation, the current map collection is not available to public because it has yet to be processed, but perhaps this will change with the sudden increase archivists. After leaving the Archives, we decided to walk around a bit. We stumbled upon the Botswana parliament, and figured why not see if we can get a tour, so we did. After asking a security guard, he made a phone call, and a woman took us inside to stand in the gallery overlooking the parliament chambers. It was an extremely nice room, and building, for that matter, unfortunately, no pictures were allowed. The tour was very short, but interesting, nonetheless. We then moved on to the US Embassy, appropriately located next to the Zimbabwean and Libyan Embassies. It took some time and a lot of explaining before we were allowed to even get past the gate. We were trying to visit Dan Saint-Rossy, the director of public affair, after meeting him a few weeks ago at the Gates Foundation presentation. He was unfortunately out, but we did speak with his secretary and saw the Embassy library (open Tuesdays and Thursdays from 2pm until closing?), called the Information Resource Center (IRC). That was my first US Embassy to be inside of; that thing was a fortress. We will try to go back either Friday or sometime next week, perhaps.

After desperately trying to find some place to eat lunch that didn't involve chicken, we finally gave up and at KFC (I got some ice cream and a juice), until we returned to the bus rink and parted ways. However, Sarah was lucky this time, and her bus left right away. I, on the other hand, sat for about an hour before finding my bus (the one to Manyana, a neighboring village). Once I found it, I boarded and talked to the driver. He told me this one didn't leave until half three (3:30pm), and it was only 1:45pm. But another bus just passed, and he told me that that one leaves at 2:30pm. So, I boarded that one, and after about 15 minutes of sitting there, with many others, we all got off the bus (for some reason still unknown to me) and boarded the bus I was previously on. So yeah, it wasn't until about 3:40pm until we left the bus rink, when I had been there since about 1:30pm. But, the important part is that I did make it back, and was able to find my way back to my house. It suddenly hit me that I am starting to fit-in in my village in terms of feeling comfortable most aspects of life here. Even in Gaborone, Sarah and I can both basically get wherever we need to get with no (or few) problems. It's kind of nice.

So, after getting back, I headed almost straight to the library from the bus stop (passing my house on the way), getting there at about 4:45pm. Waiting for me was a woman from the Mmonye Primary School. She wanted to confirm that I would come to the assembly on Thursday morning at 7:20am to address the students, and to bring my camera. At the time I was so exhausted, I didn't quite follow what she was taking about, but agreed to go, as did Lucia. I was pretty gross by that time, and Lucia said I should just go rest, so I came back to the house and took a bath. Afterwards, I fixed dinner, in the form of potato wedges. Another hit with the family, they loved them. I keep telling them that every time I cook it is simply an experiment, and sometimes I'm lucky and it turns out correctly (and, sometimes not, like the dumplings). Not to mention my love of simple food. I was primarily making dinner for Topo and Thabiso (the grandkids), so I thought they should have something more than just potatoes, salt, and oil. I cut up some green pepper, cucumber, onion, carrots, and cabbage, and threw it into a pot of some Pilchards (fish, remember), water, and a little flour to thicken it up. Finally, I added some left over rice from lunch into the mix, and presto, dinner was served. Just after I finished cleaning up the dishes, my host father came home and tried some potato wedges and loved so much, he instructed me to make him some more, so I did (I wasn't too keen on the idea, but he is putting me up in his house, so what the heck). In the meantime, I exposed Sox to Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, and Neil Young. Evidently Sox is really into what he calls country music, but it's more like folk music, from what I can gather.

This morning I arrived at the library after some maize porridge (not sour today, mmm) and some instant coffee. Oh, and we have a large bowl filled with guava fresh from the tree out back. So I'm pretty sure I've eaten about 10 of those today; not sure of the potential intestinal repercussions, but so far so good (too much?). I spent the morning creating a written proposal for the cooperative partnership between the two primary schools and the library. I had Lucia read over it, and she was happy with it. I still consider it a draft, and will most likely revise it. Speaking of the cooperative partnership, that assembly I was to attend, supposedly for library purposes, or so I thought, was actually just for me to take pictures of the children in the morning. I am not sure where the miscommunication came from, but after consulting Lucia about it, she thought it was a waste of time, which it would be. Essentially, I would be there for their entertainment rather than aiding in the construction of their library. After debating and taking into consideration the suggestion of other library staff members, I decided to cancel the “meeting” because I could be spending my time more effectively in the library, rather than taking pictures of the student body, in addition to the fact that they students would not be able to even understand what am saying. I am not quite sure what the intention of the school's staff was, as I thought I clearly articulated my interest in helping them with their library, in which they even responded with interest. However, when the woman that I met with yesterday arrived before I did, she spoke with Lucia and mentioned nothing about libraries, only that I should bring my camera in the morning. So, after figuring out how to cancel with the help of the other library staff, we did just that. Oh, and Lu Lu, that “old lady” (as they call her), she sometimes seems sort of crazy (not literally, but maybe a little), but I now understand that that fact is accepted by the other staff members, and it has sort of become humorous rather than frustrating to me. Anyhow, we will focus on Letlole Primary School for the time being in terms of helping them establish their library, as well as promoting ours.

All right, the time you've all been waiting for has finally arrived: random observations. I'd like to begin by talking about the trees in Botswana. Now, I have only seen a small percentage of the country, but I will go ahead and make some generalizations, if you don't mind. I love trees and always notice them wherever I go. The trees here have a very old feel to them, many with twisted roots and trunks, and very large networks of branches and leaves. Many of them resemble those old farm trees you find in rural Wisconsin, sitting in the middle of large corn fields, with nothing constraining them except the wind, sun, and rain, as reflected by their sometimes nearly perfectly round shape. Well, I was looking at some of these trees around my village, and noticing them in many areas. I started thinking why they are so common here, and thought it might have to do with a couple things. The first is the value of shade. Escaping the intense sun with the aid of a large overhanging tree is probably reason enough not to cut it down. The second thought has to do with the use of wood. Since termites are widespread in this country, it would not make very much sense to construct houses from wood, as most are in the US. Rather, houses and huts are constructed from concrete, or traditionally cow dung and clay (as I was told), both good for keeping cool in the hot climate. So, it seems that trees may be more valuable left alone than cut down. At least this is my theory.

The next observation: carpet, don't expect to see any. Well, I take that back, Professor Mnjama had a very large area rug that I suppose would qualify as carpet. Other than that, I have not seen any, besides the occasional small rug. Perhaps this differs in the city, but of the few houses I have seen in the city, still no carpet. It probably has to do with carpets retention of heat as opposed to cool concrete and tile floors, as well as the difficulty the excessive sand would cause in keeping the carpet clean.

Religion is a very big subject here, at least in my village. Last week I was asked by four different people from four different churches, what church I attend. I tend to provide a variety of answers depending on my mood. It's not that I am a super religious person, but I have spent a lot of time thinking about and studying religion. Regardless, I just find it very interesting. Oh, and of those four individuals, they were all from various sects of Christianity.

Finally, I may have mentioned the presence of fences in village, and country for that matter. Everyone seems to have a fence of some sort around their property. This is most likely due to the free range nature of their animals. Meaning, you haven't seen true free range until you have to dodge the cow, donkey, goat, and horse dung walking to your local library. The other night I was awakened by some cows mooing as they passed by. That doesn't really bother me, but the donkey noises are just down right obnoxious. All I keep thinking about is what I'm going to put on that immigration form coming back into the US when they ask you if you've been in contact with livestock during your visit. What happens if you say yes? Perhaps we'll find out.

3/6

Let me start by filling you in on the guava situation. So, turns out that one guava has about 36% of your daily fiber. Yeah. And if you recall, I had about ten the other day. Yeah. I have been wondering what was going on all week, and finally after learning of the guava's nutritional value, I now know. I'll leave the rest to your imagination. I think I'll take a break from eating guavas for a while.

So yesterday, Thursday, Lucia and I headed to the village (not to be confused with a town or city) of Molepolole (and yes, it is fun to say). It is called Moleps for short, and is one of the largest villages in the country. There we met Max (Kamwi Mazunga), the librarian for the Molepolole Public Library. He showed me around, and took me to the location of their new library. It is scheduled to be opened in the next few month. It is pretty incredible, quite a nice feat of architecture, with curving concrete ramps, MC Escher style stairways, and rooms that overlook rooms, not to mention the open-air center that allows light in to illuminate the entire multi-level structure. It is still under construction, but they are already in the process of purchasing an entirely new collection, and currently evaluating their current (and worn out) collection. The Ministry of Sport, Youth, and Culture is funding the project (which oddly enough is the Ministry in which libraries fall under). So Lucia and I took a combi from Mmankgodi to Thamaga, a neighboring village, and from Thamaga to Moleps. The last leg of the journey was quite long, especially when you're sitting in a vehicle meant to seat three across, and there are four. Regardless, we made relatively unscathed, and walked to the library. After spending the afternoon there, and meeting up with Kabo, the librarian from Kopong (unfortunately, Sarah was feeling a bit under the weather, and couldn't join us), Kabo, Lucia, and I went looking for a late lunch. We ended up at the ShopRite, a local grocery store. I was lucky enough to find some Doritos and a cheese and tomato sandwich. I was content. I also found out that Lucia is pregnant. I wasn't sure if she was pregnant or just had one too many fat cakes, but Kabo made a reference to a stroller, and I obviously put two and two together. She just starting to show, but I felt bad that she was riding an over capacity combi, walking the dusty and fume-ridden streets of Moleps. But she insisted she was fine; she's a trooper. So, after waiting for a bus for about 30 minutes, Lucia and I took a taxi (of which there seems to be an over saturation of in Moleps) to the local bus rink. There we caught a combi, and eventually filled that one over capacity. Let me tell you, if you thought wearing pants and a long sleeve shirt in Southern Africa was hot, you ain't seen nothing until you have to do it in a van filled with over 20 people, two of which are in contact on either side of you, giving a new meaning to the phrase “too close for comfort.” Needless to say (but I'll say it anyways), it was hot and nasty, and I was glad when the forty minute ride was over! However, despite that leg of the journey being over, we only made it to Thamaga, and apparently we missed the last bus that came around 5pm. So we waited and waited, pregnant Lucia with three bags of groceries and me with my (newly debuted) white pants (in theory a good idea, but in actuality, impossible to keep clean in these conditions) waiting for a bus that was never going to come. Finally, Lucia flagged someone down and he gave us a lift. Hitch hiking is almost the preferred method of transport as an alternative to public transport. It is customary to pay the driver, too, so it is essentially just another means of public transportation (only nicer). Eventually we made it back to Mmankgodi around 6pm, and we both called it a day.

In the evening, I helped my host-mother count her profits from the day's sales. It totaled 230.30 Pula, all in change. She does it every night, so I took it off her hands last night. I then played cards, Crazy Eights to be exact, with Thabiso, Topo, and Sox. The previous night I helped my host mother with dinner, cooked potatoes and dumplings. Hers were better than mine, of course. I have also become best friends with the dog, of which has multiple name, none of which I know. I whistle and he comes, even if I am down the path/road/walkway/beach. So Thabiso and I hung out with the dog in the cool evening breeze last night; it was excellent. The evenings are great here, very calm and comfortable, as the sun dips below the horizon.

Today is Friday, Sarah and I opted to go to Gabs tomorrow instead of today, since we were out on Tuesday. I worked on statistics all day long, and have finished with the children's section, including some graphs and tables. I will now move on to compiling the stats for the adults, no overnight task, that's for sure. Lucia was impressed with the print outs (yes, finally we got another loaner printer yesterday, this one thankfully prints in color!), and I hope to design a brochure for the library next week.

So I have come to a realization about the lives I lead here in Botswana. There are two distinct areas of my life here: home and the library. The exist almost completely independently of each other, and both take a lot of energy throughout the day. It is just very interesting to be aware of the various capacities in which Sarah and I are visiting. It shifts from students, to professionals, to librarians, to Americans, to foreigners, to anything else I forgot. I suppose you learn to shift your actions and even mentality as you transfer from capacity to capacity. I suppose that is why Sarah and I find it necessary to meet at Gaborone once a week, so we can simply relax and have no capacity at all.

All right, on to some more observations/comments. I have introduced my family to the wonderful world of peanut-butter-on-things, including on bread, with honey, on apples, alone, and in cookies. I need to find some celery and raisins, and bumps on the log, here I come. There are no mailboxes here, only P.O. Boxes located at each village's post office. My parents sent a test card and it did, in fact, reach here in about 9 or 10 days, not too bad. So, apparently

David Mindel
C/O The Moswang Family
P.O. Box 100
Mmankgodi, Botswana

works. And nope, there are no postal codes here, just the PO Box and village. Oh, and Moswang means the contents of the intestines of a cow, just in case you were wondering.

Back to funeral talk. Another member of the village has passed away, a elderly friend of the family. So, just as I mentioned in my overview of the funerals in Mmankgodi, the attendees completely fill in the grave during the ceremony. Well, it didn't occur to me how the original hole was created. Turns out, friends and family dig that, too. That is what Sox was doing all day today, literally digging a grave. Interesting.

Finally, I have noticed a sharp cultural contrast, on which I will only comment. Talking with some primary school children, I learned of the use of physical punishment in the schools. This is apparently a topic on which the current president and vice president disagree. The President opposes it, whereas the VP does not. But I must say I was sort of shocked at some of the allegations I heard. The use of sticks, and simple force seem to be common, at least here, and at least according to my “sources.” It won't comment on it anymore as I don't want to give a false impression if what I heard was not accurate. Regardless, these methods are not uncommon around the world, and sometimes we have to remind ourselves of that living in the UK or US. If anything, it is just a cultural difference, I suppose.

OK, are you sick of reading yet!? Don't answer that. Tomorrow, Saturday, Sarah and I will be touring the US Embassy with Dan Saint-Rossy, the Director of Public Affairs. He was kind enough to invite us, and I, for one, am looking forward to it. The bus ride there, however, I am not looking forward to. It is utterly exhausting. But, the coffee and fruit salad (minus the guava) available in Gaborone are incentive enough for me! Have a good weekend.

P.S. I just had some fried potatoes that Tobo, the granddaughter, made. She, Thabiso, and I shared them, pretty good, I must say. So my family has two house structures, and the one I am staying in is partially being remodeled, although it is nearly complete. So in one of the three rooms in the house, I stay, another KB stays, and the third is nearing completion. Sox stays at his late grandmother's house next door, and my host father and mother and Topo and Thabiso stay in the second house structure. Apparently, Topo shares a bed with my host mother, her grandmother, and Thabiso shares a bed with his my host father, his grandfather. It's always funny talking to them, they are so honest, and they speak English very well. There commentary on how some one dies in the village every Saturday or Sunday, every week (because the funerals are always held on Saturday or Sundays). It was just amusing to hear them speak about it. My host parents are attending a funeral tonight and tomorrow, which tends to be a week long course of events, many taken place until the wee hours of the morning. That is how discussion of the bed situation came about, because they are both looking forward to being able to spread out on the mattress. They are both around the fifth grade age. Anyhow, speaking of mattresses, my inflatable mattress is calling me. Oh, and the water is once again out. That makes it about four days in the last week that we had running water. Hope it's back by Sunday, I have some serious laundry to do.

Also, I have been slowly posting some pictures on the "my photos" link on the right side. I also tried posting some of the graphs I have been working with lately to my webspace, but was unable to do so today. I will try in the future.

Remember to Floss/The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round??

2/18
So it appears that if you are one of the seemingly many Americans that are afflicted with an intolerance of lactose (which is to say, lactose intolerant), then perhaps Botswana isn't the best place for an extended stay. Fortunately for me, I am not one of those Americans (although, it is my understanding that lactose intolerance is actually “normal,” and everyone else has a particular gene that has undergone some sort of mutation, just as the when the Native Americans first encountered milk, everyone became sick (references you say? I know, I wish I had some, too)). I can see how cattle is central to Botswana in so many ways, including diet, culture, way of life, and tradition. This includes the use of milk in all of its (glorious?) forms, including warm, cold, frozen, sour, fresh, old, lumpy, smooth, boiled, need I say more? My particular favorite of those mentioned, is the frozen approach, of which I am looking forward to a butterfinger blizzard from (none other than) Diary Queen in the not too distant future.

On another note, I have bypassed a very crucial aspect of writing as I am composing these posts. That aspect is known as editing. I hope you will all forgive the (hopefully) occasional grammatical or punctual error(s). However, feel free to let me know if I continually misspell a word (for example, porage vs. porridge), I won't take offense. It's kind of like when you have something in your teeth (or nose) and no one tells you, and you only discover the foreign object at the end of the day, realizing it had been there all day. Typically I use the spell check in Open Office as a virtual mirror; however, I have noticed that I cannot always see the virtual piece of spinach that has somehow lodged itself somewhere on my virtual face (wait, what was I talking about?, oh yeah, misspellings). Regardless, the issue of porridge not being spelled correctly has now been remedied.

Speaking of the starchy foods that make up the majority of my diet, I was reading (yes, I was able to interpret it) the nutritional facts for maize meal, and I was quite impressed. Not only is it a relatively significant source of protein, but it also contains folic acid and a variety of other vitamins. I suppose I'll have to add it to my line-up of rice, couscous, noodles, and quinoa (is that really how it's spelled, or is that another piece of textual spinach?) upon my return home.

Yesterday (Tuesday) consisted of the (let me know when this gets too redundant) typical shelving of some books in the morning, followed by a venture to one of the junior secondary schools (which the intense sun beating down on me made the walk seem quite long). There we (a library staff member and I) waited for the librarian, chatting with (whom I believe was the school pastor?) a woman in the office until the arrival of the librarian. This seemed to go on for quite some time, but eventually (after the woman SMS'ed (that's “text messaged” for you Americans) the librarian) we were greeted by the woman in charge of the library. She took us into the (air conditioned!) room, with “France 24” (that CNN equivalent) on the television. The shelving appeared pretty worn, as did many of the books. I noticed a “multi-media” cabinet with a few VHS tapes in it, but the sheer presence was worth noting, as “my” library has no such cabinet (or shelf, or drawer, or even cubby (remember those?)). The secondary school is the next step after the primary school, which goes up to seventh grade (although what we call “grades” are called “standards” here), so I would imagine that an eighth grade equivalent is the lowest standard at the secondary school, providing education to children up to the age of 16 (in its respective standard level) (did I lose you?). I asked the librarian about funding. She said that they receive a very small acquisitions budget; however, the school itself is funded by the central (federal) government. This we will find out later makes a big difference in funding. She also said that students tend to use the library during breaks and after school (which would be expected). I am not sure if the woman tending to the library is actually trained as a librarian, as not every library actually has a formal librarian (of course I didn't ask). After our short visit, we headed back into the (umbrella worthy) sun, and walked back to our library. Upon our return, I talked with Lucia about some areas within the library that she feels need the most attention. We had a conversation that was very cyclical in nature, such that it kept coming back to the fact that BNLS really controls each library. Meaning, funding is allocated to each library by BNLS, and BNLS is responsible for acquisitions for all the libraries in way that leaves each library with exactly the same collection. I understand the surface level of efficiency, but I what I keep hearing (from BNLS staff and librarians, alike) is that there needs to be decentralization, particularly in regard to acquisition. So, despite the need for day-time programming, this become very difficult as there are literally no funds (for crayons, dvds, paper, or basically anything else you can think of). As I look over my notes from that conversation, the most important topic that was touched on was fundraising. However, I am still completely sure if funds that are generated by a library stay at the library level, or whether they have to be turned into BNLS for distribution. Assuming they can be used at the library level, activities such as bake sales, raffles, local donations, cook outs, grant proposals, and weeding/selling books are all viable options to potentially generate money (or if anything, generate interest in the library). On top of everything, the libraries being built under Bob Rothschild are to incorporate responsibilities related to helping orphans of the community, those affected by HIV/AIDS, and the less fortunate. This is not a problem, in fact, this probably helps, in that it involves the organization ACHAP (African Comprehensive HIV/AIDS Partnership), which provides much of the computer related support, but it is an additional duty for the library staff. Although we did not come to any necessary solutions during our conversation, it was very productive nonetheless.

Yesterday's heat was pretty nasty, I must say. I took a nap in the afternoon, and the helped with dinner (rice, cooked cabbage, some pseudo-SPAM (and yes, it does have sodium nitrite in it), and some boiled beets, of which I don't remember the last time I ate those. I'll leave it at that), and then Sox, Thabiso (the grandson), and I went for a stroll around the village. The evenings are very nice; cool, a slight breeze, and a sunset that seems to be of divine origin. We stopped at one of the local shops, and I bought us all some Sprite and biscuits (and then explained how biscuits in the US typically accompany gravy or at least some sort of fried egg, and we would call the biscuits here either cookies or crackers). It was dark by the time we made it home, and by the time we wrapped up our conversation about Sox coming to the US to practice some sort of agricultural occupation (especially with cattle), and I informed him of the importance that both agriculture and farming have in the US. This ended the night for me, and I went to bed around 9pm. I cannot seem to shake this constant tiredness. I think it has something to do with the lack of water (it seems like the only liquid people consume is in the tea (which, might I add, I hope I don't come home with brown teeth after all the tea I've been drinking, or with no teeth after all the sugar I've been drinking with the tea!)) and the heat. But hopefully in time I'll adjust (or not).

Today (Wednesday) I had some fry bread for breakfast, although it goes by a different name down here (something like papata). Then headed to the library and walked in during a morning prayer session (not sure if this is an everyday thing, but it was the first that I've seen). So, I just sat at a table and looked through my collection development book (yes, Peggy Johnson's) until they finished. I then talked again with Lucia about developing some sort of report on the current state of the library. What I decided to begin with was to create a list of library successes, concerns, and goals (although, there seems to be a different system down here called SWOT, standing for Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats). I then created a list for all three categories and had Lucia change or add anything. I also created a list of library “things to do,” which includes some short term and long term goals that the library should consider undertaking. This list includes advocacy, promotion, outreach, activities, and community involvement. I intend on further expanding both list, and, in time, generate a formal report with which we can submit to BNLS (and most likely the Rothschilds, UW-Madison, and U of Botswana) in order to create a stream of communication articulating exactly what current issues, needs, and wants of the libraries are. I truly believe that communication should be a central aspect in helping to develop these libraries as fully functioning community and information centers. I began working on the report today, and am guessing that this will take some time to produce a professional draft. After speaking with Sarah at Kopong today, I learned that she seems to be much more involved with programming, whereas I have been dealing more with library advocacy among the local schools, government officials, and community at large. We agreed that it would be to everyone's advantage if we combine our strengths (not powers, sorry Captain Planet) and eventually exchange our areas with our respective libraries.

Before I get too carried away, I should also mention that today I visited the second of three primary schools, called Letlole Primary School. It, again, houses standards (grades) 1-7, with 440 students, and 20 staff members. It began in 1980, and continually advocates for students to join school committees and clubs (such as the environmental club, HIV awareness club, traditional dance club, and other social committees). As with every where else in the world, there are limited resources. There are also children that need special attention, of which I have not heard about at the other primary school (although I'm sure there are some there, too). Currently, there is no formal library there, just an empty building (an old classroom) with books in piles on the concrete floors. I took a picture to truly show the condition of some of these libraries are (I only wish I could post it for you all to see). I met with the principal there, and she was a very kind woman. She expressed how desperate they are to establish a normal working library with the books and space that they currently have. I suggested that after I meet with the third primary school, we arrange a meeting for school (library) representatives, myself, and Lucia to exchange ideas (like I said, communication is key). Perhaps we could even establish a school libraries committee that would regularly meet (one step at a time, I guess).

Today I also met with the volunteer computer guy (I helped him set up a gmail account there other day, I don't know if I mentioned that in an earlier post). He has relatively basic skills, but has generously agreed to volunteer his time to provide basic computer skills training to anyone in the community (for free). Unfortunately, as he explained to me today, people are just not coming in to take advantage of his services. I should say, however, that earlier in the day I informed the principal of Letlole primary school that our library had computers, and she was in disbelief. This is an example of the lacking communication along with the lacking outreach and promotion. Hopefully this is something that we can easily remedy with some marketing and advertising.

2/22

Good Sunday afternoon to you. I am writing to you from the comfort of my air filled single mattress, alternative down comforter (not exactly necessary here, but it keeps the mosquitoes off), and my newly washed sheets just brought in from hanging outside to dry. And I suppose I shall not forget to mention my (extremely basic) pillow (the guilty party responsible for producing the occasional morning neck ache). I have been attempting to keep notes regarding certain highlights of the past few days, as I have not had the opportunity to write a proper entry since Wednesday (I think?). First I would just like to express my new found passion for ice pops (small Ziploc (or the generic equivalent) bags filled with frozen colored (or should I say coloured?) sugar water. After a nice (salty) meal, this truly hits the spot, both cold and sweet, what's not to like? These amazing creations are yet another product produced and sold by my host-mother (of which supports a small business seemingly more financially stable than the US economy).

Jumping to last Thursday, the day began (and ended) with an in-house computer training session, hosted by the winning bidder, Tiny Shed LLC (of www.tinyshed.com, naturally), of an ACHAP (African Comprehensive HIV/AIDS Partnership) contract. The session was informative, but (without sounding arrogant) it was a bit too in depth for the needs (and technical backgrounds) of the library staff. The “chapters” covered (via PowerPoint) were as follows: Personal Computers and Applications, Operating Systems, Connecting to A Network, Connecting to the Internet Through an ISP, Network Addressing, Wireless Technologies, Basic Security, and Trouble Shooting Your Network. On the surface, this seem like a very comprehensive lesson (which it was); however, it seemed that attempting to explain IP addresses, Subnet Masks, motherboards, and command prompt to a library that is barely connected to the Internet was a bit too much, too soon. Perhaps the idea was to present a lot of information in order for greater emphasis on specifics, while providing an overall understanding of computers as a whole. Regardless, the English speaking (and non-Setswana speaking) Indian man running the session, had to allow for another tech person to explain a large portion of the presentation in Setswana. I think a great first step would be to improve the library's operating system (aka, get rid of Vista), improve connectivity, and tackle the issue of viruses. With the aid of the instructor, I was finally able to connect my netbook to the library's Internet. It was by no means fast, but it was faster than the in-house computers. So, beginning a bit after 8am, the program concluded around 1pm, after which I returned “home” for lunch.

Later in the afternoon, Sox and I decided to go look for some baboons (and no, that's not a typo). As I said in an earlier post, the baboon is the totem for Mmankgodi, and they are apparently all over this area (although I still have yet to see one close up). So, we set out for the nearby hills, and of course the dog (of which I am now very good friends with, which seems to be the trend when I encounter dogs while traveling) accompanied us. We walked through the bush, dodging thorned bushes (of which it seems that nearly every species of vegetation has some sort of throned self-defense mechanism, and I mean serious thorns. For instance, if you ever ripped your clothing while in bush, and had some extra thread, you would have no problem stitching up your clothing with the aid of one of the many “nature's needles”), and keeping our eyes and ears open for any signs of baboons. After about two hours, we finally gave up the hunt and made our way to a neighboring road to begin our return walk. As we were walking on the shoulder, a group of men on bicycles approached us, and Sox pointed out to me that the one on the far left was the president of Botswana! I was too slow with my camera, and was only able to take a photograph as he peddled away (with an official escort car trailing behind him). It is my understanding that there is a nearby military base housing many soldiers. These soldiers use this particular road to bike on, as it is pretty calm most of the time. The current president is an ex-soldier, and also uses this same path for the sake of quietness. So, despite not having seen any baboons, I did get to be within four feet of the president of Botswana, not a bad compromise. Although, I should add that on the walk back as the sun was nearly set, I noticed some silhouettes on the top of a nearby hill. Turned out, those silhouettes were a family of baboons (the baboon screaming also gave it away). By the time we made it back, it had been nearly four hours (and although my feet were tired, my Chaco sandals, once again, proved themselves worthy of traversing any kind of terrain). As we approached our house, I couldn't help but take notice of the clarity with the Milky Way stood out against the jet black night sky. The view of the stars, in general, is absolutely amazing, I don't know how else to put it. I wish I could capture it with my camera (not that you would see it anyhow, considering the upload problems), but I suppose some things in life can only be experienced in person.

After we finally made it back (and I pulled myself away from the night sky (avoiding a future sore neck)) dumplings were on the menu for dinner (which, might I add, weren't eaten until about 10pm). I love dumplings! (probably even more than the ice pops) What are the ingredients, you ask? Well, pretty simple, water, flour, baking powder/yeast (didn't I already list these in another post?), sugar, and salt. They were so good, with some cooked cabbage, and some (canned) fish on the side. I can't wait to make dumplings at home. Upon the completion of dinner, I embraced the approaching food coma, and went to bed (I know, it's not the healthiest thing to do, but it's sure hard to resist).

Friday was a great day. I awoke to the sounds of “ko ko,” meaning “knock knock,” as children were looking for my host mother to purchase some treats before school. Sarah and I had planned to leave for Gaborone from our respective villages at 8am. I made it to the bus stop, with the assistance of Sox (this village is a literal maze, as corny as it sounds (wow, that's pretty bad)), and I proceeded to wait for the next bus. (If you think Madison's public transportation system is poor, you ain't seen nothing.) After waiting for over an hour, finally a (nearly full) bus arrived, and I was lucky enough to find a seat. Sarah had already arrived at the bus rink in Gaborone before I even boarded my bus. I arrived at the Bus Rink (essentially the bus depot, or main hub) and as I deboarded the bus, a man with a familiar face asked me where I was going (I had met him at some point in Mmankgodi, but I can no longer separate faces from contexts, and don't even ask about names), I informed him I was looking for the combi (a 15 seat van, similar to the classic VW van, but made in Japan) to Game City Mall. He happily took me to the correct location (which made my life easier), and I soon boarded the combi to Game City. Somehow I ended up beating Sarah to Game City, and upon arrival, I sought out some much desired coffee. Spotting “Cafe Portugal,” I entered and ordered a coffee and a fruit salad. I must say, the coffee was good, but the fruit salad was probably the best fruit salad I have ever had (not that I am any sort of fruit salad expert, but I know a good fruit salad when I see one, and this was one of those). It had fresh orange, papaya, banana, strawberry, kiwi, apple, and pineapple (my mouth is literally watering as I am typing this), with a nice base juice. It was so good, that when Sarah arrived, I insisted she order one (and for 23 pula, about $3, it was a great deal). So, after Sarah finished hers, and I finished my refill of coffee, we set out to explore the mall. I purchased more airtime and looked at some new phones (I am a self-proclaimed technology geek), and we headed to the bookstore searching for maps of Botswana. Finally finding a second bookstore (this mall is pretty big), we found a number of good maps, and we both purchased at least one (Sarah has been collecting maps for the UW-Madison Map Library, so she purchased a few). Exploring further, we stumbled upon an Irish Pub, which we decided to venture inside. Realizing that trying local and regional beverages is really another form of gaining cultural insight (right?), we opted to try a Savannah cider from South Africa and also some Amarula (this stuff is do delicious, I will bring some home, don't worry). Returning to the mall, I decided to purchase a new cell phone (the one I'm using down here is about five years old, has trouble holding a charge, and doesn't vibrate, so I figured it would be nice to get an “unlocked” one down here for cheaper than home (since in the US phones tend to be locked to only allow SIM cards from a certain company, ATT, Verizon, Sprint, etc. So, instead of having to renew a contract, I now have a new phone, a Samsung J750 to be exact). After looking at a few phones, I decided on a Samsung slider phone. It wasn't until later that day (at Riverwalk mall, on the other side of Gaborone) that I looked at the phone in the sunlight. It was sort of brown with purple buttons. In short, it was a girl phone. So, knowing that I would never feel totally comfortable whipping out my phone in most social situations because of its purple keys, I actually took another combi back to Game City, and made it just in time before the store closed. I went in and asked if they had the phone in black, they said no. I asked if I could exchange it for another phone, they said no. So I left, but just as I suffer from the extreme indecision of a Pisces, I also possess persistence, which in this case, paid off. I looked at the receipt and saw nothing regarding exchanges, so I returned to the store one more time, and asked them again if they were sure that I could not exchange the phone for a more expensive phone (ahh, the persuasive (and universal) “cha-ching”). They told me to “talk to him,” pointing to an apparent manager. I explained my color dilemma (hey, it was still relatively cheap, but it did cost $140, I'm entitled to be happy with the color...don't judge), and he told me I could exchange it. I then picked a very slightly more expensive phone (in order to fulfill the promised “cha-ching” sound), paid the difference, and everyone was happy (at least I was). The phone I now have is pretty nice, and actually, I just set up the Internet access on it today. It can connect to the 3G network (I believe it's a faster data network), and I can now check my email faster than I can at the library (figure that one out!!). Not to mention, it's cheaper to surf the net on my new phone than it is to talk on it (who said talk is cheap, anyhow?).

I should add that before we headed back to Game City on my phone-exchange-quest, Sarah and I sit down at Riverwalk and enjoyed nice (and simple) late lunch sandwiches (with coffee, of course), and were able to discuss our libraries, and the issues that we are currently facing (which was the original point of meeting). We have both agreed to make a weekly meeting part of our schedule, as we are certainly meeting (and often exceeding) our 20 hour per week work schedule. A weekly meeting not only allows us to relax a bit and take a break, but it also give us the opportunity to compare notes, exchange ideas, and brainstorm new projects.

Anyhow, after making it to the bus rink, Sarah and I parted ways; however, not before meeting my host-sister, Mango, at the rink. As Mango and I waited for our bus, which we apparently missed the last one (around 7pm), we stood in line with other hopeful individuals waiting for a possible next (and last) bus. Finally, an hour later, another bus showed up. We filled it up, with no room to spare. About 15 minutes outside of the city center, the bus broke down. We ran into Trevor, a cousin, and he concluded that it was out of fuel. Regardless of the cause, the bus eventually started again, and we were on our way. Until the bus pulled over about three minutes later and completely died, once again. This time, the three of us left the buss and boarded a combi that agreed to take everyone to Mmankgodi (when I say everyone, I mean 21 people in a 15 person van, and yes, I did have someone on my lap before the doors closed). Finally arriving, Trevor, Mango, and I made our way through the pitch black village (the moon is about the only public lighting here, and it hasn't been out), but we eventually made it home safe and sound. What a day.

Saturday began with me sleeping in, and it was good. Not only did I sleep in, I took a nap in the later afternoon, which was equally as good. The day was pretty relaxed, consisting of Trevor and myself hanging out together the majority of the day. He lives in Gaborone, but grew up in Mmankgodi, and comes here typically every weekend. We seem to find ourselves doing stereotypical guy stuff, like seeing how many push-ups we can do, or pull-ups from a tree branch in the front. Yesterday, we found ourselves racing each other in the sand covered walkways/roads (he won twice, I won once. (His legs are also longer)). We also played cards (in fact, we have been playing a game that Gabe and Gillian Gossett taught me prior to leaving, of which I don't recall the name, but thanks to them) and cooked. I think I've said it before, cooking for eight people is hard, it's like cooking for an army (especially when I come from living alone and cooking for one). That said, left-overs don't exist in this house. The night ended with maize-meal porridge, which I actually found nicer than sorghum porridge. It more closely resembles cream of wheat in color, and the texture a bit creamier than the sorghum. And, I should say, I also found out how they make their porridge sour. They add tartaric acid, not sour milk! For me it doesn't make the taste any better, but it is a little easier going down.

Today was a day similar in nature to Saturday. Trevor and I spent much of the day cooking, and simply hanging out in the living room. We just ate five small chocolate bars each, that we purchased from my host-mother. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but perhaps I should have exercised some discipline? Regardless, chocolate is good. I only wish the water was running (yep, it's out again) to refill my bottle. Luckily I had enough to rid myself of the sweet bite in the back of my throat. I also did laundry today (did I mention how much of a hassle it is to do laundry by hand?). Fortunately, we had water at that time (despite the iron color). My bath water was taken from water that must come from an outside pump, and heated in a large plastic bucket with a heating coil on the bottom, mixed with some cool water. Despite the method, it got the job done, and now here I am, clean as a whistle (how clean are whistles, anyway?).

2/23

Last night ended with my host-father, Trevor, the grandchildren, and myself watching “Kung Fu Hustle” (one of my favorites) on television (and switching to “Sin City” during commercial breaks). For dinner (since there was no water) my host mother used some reserve water to boil a vegetable similar in nearly every way to squash. It was very good, especially with a bit of salt on the side. As with most things, an alternative method of consuming this vegetable is to mash it and mix it with milk. This was followed by some watermelon, although slightly different in size and color than ours at home, but equally as refreshing. After the movie, Trevor and I (well, I watched) made some maize porridge (I love this stuff), ate it, and retired for the night.

It rained during the early hours of the morning, which means cooler temperatures. It is still cloudy out this morning, with a nice breeze blowing over the hills and through the trees (to grandmother's house we go?). Sorghum porridge was breakfast, with some rooibos, and a couple cookies (my host mother insists on giving me “too much food;” she is very thoughtful; food is always appreciated (at home or abroad)). Arriving at the library at he usual 7:30am, I shelved the few books sitting out, gathered some (handwritten) statistics dating to last September, and began compiling them in a spreadsheet. I suppose as I am constructing a formal report using the system of SWOT (discussed earlier), I should have some hard facts regarding the patrons, some sort of circulation, and anything else that will contribute to a better and more thorough understanding of the current library situation. So, I am guessing this will keep me quite busy for a couple weeks (and I have only begun on the children's statistics), but I feel that being able to efficiently manipulate the data will truly benefit the library and BNLS.

I tried sweet reed for the first time today. It basically ranks up there with dumplings and ice pops. When I was traveling through Jamaica, sugar cane quickly became my favorite treat (meal, snack, leisure activity), and although there is sugar cane in Botswana (at least it is sold here; it is my understanding it is imported from South Africa (as with many things)), the sweet reed seems much more prevalent (especially behind the library!). As it is within the duties of the library to provide certain things for the less fortunate, growing maize, watermelon, and sweet reed contributes to that effort. As the staff were harvesting the crop (that makes it sound bigger than it is, believe me), I was able to try both (miniature) maize and sweet reed. The sweet reed must be a cousin of sugar cane, but is much thinner in thickness. Despite this fact, it is still refreshingly sweet, and even a bit less fibrous (although I wouldn't recommend swallowing it, just as with sugar cane) than sugar cane. In short, I wish we had it in Wisconsin (speaking of which, after I returned from Jamaica, I visited my sister and brother-in-law in Albany, NY. During a super market visit, I spotted some sugar cane for $3, and I thought, “wow, sugar cane, I will have to buy this.” So I did just that; however, upon cutting it up and trying to eat it, I was (not surprisingly) disappointed: worst sugar cane ever. I suppose that's what I get for trying to eat tropical grass (?) in the North East United States).

After lunch (more dumplings, thanks to Trevor, and some cooked cabbage. I'm pretty sure I'm obsessed with dumplings and cabbage now, in case you couldn't tell), I returned to the library to attend a PTA (you guessed it, the infamous Parent Teacher Association) meeting at the junior secondary school. I estimate there being at least 150 people there, perhaps even closer to 200, most of which appeared to mothers (at least the majority in attendance were women). It was entirely in Setswana, so I was not able to understand anything, but at least it demonstrated the present interest the community has in both their children and education.
2/25

I promise this is the last bit I will write before posting. Yesterday afternoon Sox and I headed to Gaborone to pick his sister's car up, pick up his cousin, and driver her to a town southeast of Lobatse (home of the Botswana Meat Commission and brick manufacturing). It is about 40 minutes from Gaborone, and then it was another 20 minutes past Lobatse to the town (actually, it was more of a small village, or even settlement, of which I cannot remember the name off hand). After dropping Sox's cousin off, we took a detour to check out a small nearby lake. I must say that the landscape in this area of Botswana very much resembled what I had imagined Africa looks like (at least from the countless PBS documentaries I've watched over the years), extremely flat, with a lot of knee-high grass, and sporadically placed trees. It was quite beautiful, and a very nice change of scenery. Lobatse, however, was very hilly, almost mountainous (at least by Wisconsin standards). It was relatively small, but was busy with uniformed children heading home from school, and typical town-like city center with a few stores and restaurants, and a lot of traffic (just to make things complicated). The journey south was nice, and look forward to venturing across the rest of the country (which I will need to soon plan).

I figured out why there were so many funerals the other weekend, driving in Botswana is pretty dangerous, at least at night. Let me attempt to describe it for you. The main roads (the equivalent to our beltline, beltway, or interstate) connecting large cities (and the country) are about as wide as State Street in downtown Madison, WI (if you are not familiar with this street, it is a typical 2-way street wide enough to allow two buses to (safely?) pass each other). So, as the speed limit on these roads is about 75 mph (120 kmph), with little or (almost always) no shoulder, accommodating cars (and large trucks and buses) passing each other at 75 (or typically more) mph only feet from each other. The center lines are faded much of the time, and on occasion serve only as a suggestion. Now picture this, passing (or overtaking) occurs constantly, which is no surprise, the same thing occurs on US roadways. However, the difference is there is often more than one lane when vehicles pass each other at high speeds in the US. Now, add night time into this equation, and there is a recipe for potential disaster. It is exhausting just being a passenger in a car driving at night time, I can't imagine how stressful it is to be a driver! So, to recap, we have high speed, bright lights, no street lights, darkness, no shoulder, passing vehicles, and the occasional goat/cow/donkey in the road. In this situation, I think I opt for just closing my eyes and thinking of Dairy Queen Oreo (yes, it was butterfinger before) Blizzards. In fact, just last night I saw a semi-truck (I would call it a 16-wheeler, but it was actually a double trailer with too many wheels to count) lock up its breaks to avoid hitting a goat standing in the middle of the road. Lucky his trailer(s) stayed behind him (or her, but probably him) and didn't swing around to swipe our car. And a final note on this subject, despite the conservative nature of space on the main roads, people are more than liberal in their use of their brights (which in combination with the above criteria and a dirty windshield), making it nearly impossible to see as cars approach.

Luckily, we made it safely to Gaborone; however, we were far too late to catch the last bus to Mmankgodi. So, we ate dinner at Nando's (a Botswana chain that specializes in chicken, but, staying true to my vegetarian roots, I ordered the veggie burger (it's become sort of a game, trying different vegetarian products from around the world), and on that note, I would probably note order it again). So, we made our way to a bus stop (as opposed to the bus rink) and unsuccessfully attempted to get a ride on a combi. After that failed, we were able to flag down (aka hitch hike) a car that took as far as the junction (about 2 miles from Mmankgodi). From there we proceeded to walk in the pitch darkness that is Botswana on a moonless night, until we could flag down yet another car. This one took us into Mmankgodi, and we arrived at home a bit after 9pm.

This morning (Wednesday), as with everyday this week, I have been compiling statistics on who uses the library. This includes age, gender, activity, and residency (which I may have already mentioned earlier). I am taking the data from the last five months in order to present accurate information to BNLS, so they have a better understanding of how the library is working. This is extremely time consuming, at the moment, but I believe essential to have on-hand for everyone involved with these libraries. I have two more months to record for the children, and then I will compile the information for the adults. After both of these are recorded, I hope to then compile the statistics on circulation, which should be a much shorter list.

About midway through this morning, the Village Library Committee (I'm pretty sure it was them), consisting of three individuals, with whom I've already been acquainted, met to discuss he funding situation to purchase grass to roof the outside library meeting area (which currently stands with only the skeleton of a roof). The meeting (as per usual) was conducted entirely in Setswana, but I suppose my presence shows interest in the situation and other affairs of the committee. It is also my understanding that the outcome of the meeting was very positive. We concluded with tea (I had coffee, mmm) and fat cakes (so I've decided that it's not that “fat cakes” make you fat (which I'm sure they do if consumed in excess), but it is probably that they are deep fried in fat (lard, or the like). Maybe I'm wrong (then again, maybe not)), which was a welcomed snack. As for the rest of the afternoon, my guess is that it will consist of more data entry.

If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen (or sun)

2/15

Have you ever wondered how people opened canned food products before the invention of the can opener (if I recall correctly, canned food was invented prior to the invention of the can opener)? Well, as I know you have all lost a lot of sleep over this dilemma, I have something very special in store for you. In addition to dicing tomatoes, slicing bread, and filleting fish, knives can also be used to open canned foods. How do I know this, you ask? Well, turns out that that is the preferred method where I am staying. You simply puncture the top of the can, force the knife in about half way up the blade, and (attempt to) use a cutting motion to create a metal flap, which (if done correctly) is all that stand between you and the (hopefully) delicious contents of the can (speaking of cans, pop (or soda, I know) cans are heavier here, just slightly. I don't know why, just thought you'd like to know). Now that leads us into your next question (it does?), that being: Dave, what kind of canned foods are you eating in Botswana. Canned fish, to answer your question. In fact, canned Pilchards (a cousin to the Herring, although I have not seen it pickled) set the standard for canned fish here, either in a chili or tomato sauce (did you expect anything else in a land-locked country?). I can't speak for the mercury level, whether they are farm raised or wild, or what the sodium content is in the sauce (have you ever actually tried to read a nutrition facts label in another country? It's not that easy), but with some rice or maize, it makes quite a tasty dish. So, I hope we have sufficiently covered your initial questions about the history of canned foods and how it relates to Botswana (go back to sleep).

As I was eating another fresh pomegranate with KB last Friday, I learned a very important lesson: pomegranates and white shirts don't mix well. In any other circumstance, I would have been a bit upset at learning this important life lesson, but seeing as how I am an Africa, and the juice that has molecularly bonded to the white strands of cotton thread that is my shirt (a vintage San Diego swapmeat (or is it meet?) California surfing shirt) is from an African pomegranate, it's like to look at it as though I'm bringing back a souvenir, one that is comprised of soon-to-be memories (not to mention it's free). Oh, and while we were sitting out in the warm African sun creating the memories that comprise the aforementioned souvenir, I also noticed some underwear hanging on the clothes line outside (point being, my theory about washing underwear in the bathtub every bath time (twice a day), as mentioned in an earlier post, has now been foiled). Regardless of this fact, I think the system that I devised to ensure I always have a clean pair of underwear works pretty well (right?).

Saturday morning, the day dedicated to Saint Valentine (and Hallmark) is, in fact, observed in Botswana. However (aside from my Valentine's day card from my parents, which was strategically (or, again, is it tactically?) placed in my suitcase prior to my departure) the day was strictly business, which is to say, KB, Mango, and I met Sarah at the mall (Riverwalk) in Gaborone to eat pizza (which, if you know me, and my eating habits, you know I take my eating very seriously). Before going the mall, however, I did attend a funeral (one of five this weekend in the village! No, I'm not joking). I was given a brief rundown of how funerals work in Botswana. They begin (of course after a person passes away) with a week of mourning prior to the actual funeral and laying to rest. This reminds me of the tradition of observing shiva in the Jewish tradition, in which family and friends will typically hold mourning “sessions” for the week after the funeral (which is held usually within a couple of days after the person passes away). Funerals here are usually held on Saturdays and Sundays, and the night before, a wake (or its equivalent) occurs at the house of the deceased person's family (which is indicated by the giant army-green tarp tents strewn across their lawn). So, (as I learned firsthand) the funeral begins at the crack of dawn (or at least by 6am), and runs the entire morning (no pun intended). Naturally, I get up at 5am in order to be on-time to accompany my host-mother and Sox; however, it wasn't until about 6:15am that we actually leave the house. It was no problem, as the funeral (which is pretty standard, is my understanding) consisted of a white van with two loud speakers mounted on the roof, what appeared to be a temporary parking lot, the army-green tarp tents, and a whole lot of people. Despite the loudspeakers cutting in and out (and sounding like the PA announcements on an airplane (i.e. couldn't understand it (not that I would have been able to anyways, since it was in Setswana))), it was reminiscent of my time spent in Sarajevo (a Muslim city (at least the old city)) when I was perched on a hill overlooking the city as dusk approached, and the call to prayer suddenly erupted over all the buildings and houses; although I could not understand the words, I could still sense their significance, just as I could sense the significance of the words being spoken Saturday morning, despite not being able to understand them. So just as the dew dissapread from the mornign grass, so too did the crowd as they dispearsed from the family member's house, to the burial grounds across the village. Suddenly we were in a (dirt road) traffic jam, idling in a line that seemingly stretched the entire length (or width?) of the village. If there was a pick-up truck, the back was filled with people dressed in their Sunday best (well, technically their Saturday best). As we followed the vehicle in front of us (and they in front of them), it felt as though the line of traffic was leading to some sort of concert (say, Alpine Valley, the Midwest's largest amphitheater, for instance), it was quite the site to see. Finally, as we arrived at the burial grounds (along with everyone else, and those for the other funeral being held that morning), we walked from our truck to the grave site (I felt like it was the beginning of a Phish concert, minus the dreadlocks and tie-dyes), where everyone gathered around the grave, and began to sing songs. Although, I must say, it felt like each funeral was competing for air waves as both (very large) groups were singing songs only feet from one another. Regardless, the songs were very nice (just as they were in church last weekend, again reminding me of Paul Simon's “Graceland”), even as they overlapped one another. The graves, themselves, are arranged in a very orderly fashion, all facing one direction (again noting the similarities in the Jewish tradition), and all built up, such that they there was a mound of dirt (actually more like sandy soil) the entire length of a grave that extended above the ground level by about one foot. All of this was then encased with a wrought iron structure sheltering the full length dirt mound. The wrought iron structures tended to have a green plastic screen fastened to the top, acting as though a transparent roof. At the foot (or head, I'm not sure) there was a metal plaque (if you would call it that, it was more like a sheet of metal) with painted information on it about the individual buried in that grave. So, back to the funeral (and the hearse, which might I add, was a truck hearse, with two wheels up front, and four wheels in the back, not to mention it had “rims,” (don't worry, I took a picture)), after the singing and speaking, people were invited to shovel dirt onto the newly buried coffin (and no, I did not participate in that activity), until the dirt was about a foot above the ground. After that (it was like the end of that Phish concert, with hoards of people trying to get to their cars and leave, all at the same time), everyone proceeded to leave and return back to the family member's house for “talking,” as I was told (we actually didn't stay for it, because it would have been sort of weird (as if it wasn't already weird enough that I was at someone's funeral, right?)).

Returning home, we needed some breakfast (or at least I needed some breakfast), so I figured I would make pancakes. (All right, here is a very large side note. When I was living in Edinburgh, Scotland, I was living with two French guys, Romain and Michael. We are still very good friends, and I intend on visiting them very soon in Australia (they get around). Anyhow, they were very good at attaining US television shows via the world wide web, and we essentially had a schedule for watching these show (along with other movies, as well). Naturally they are both good cooks (isn't that how it works with French people?), and so we would often find ourselves in the kitchen together (noting our mutual love for food). One day, this resulted our invention of “pancrepes,” a cross between pancakes and crepes. We would make stacks of these things, and then eat them with Nutella (mmm...Nutella), jam (not orange jam, that was horrid), ice cream, and chestnut spread (this is a French product, and is superb). So, referring back to those times, I remembered how to make (a variation on) pancakes, which brings us back to the story.) So, mixing milk (full cream, of course), flour, three eggs, baking powder (I think this was the one difference between here and Edinburgh, resulting in more cake-y and less crepe-y (yes, that is official Foodie vocabulary)), and sugar. They were an absolute success with the family, and pretty delicious, if I say so myself. (They were so successful, that tonight (Sunday night), I was specifically requested to make them again, which I did). So, we at them all, and then Mango, KB, and I were dropped off at the nearby bus stop (don't let the name full you, it's more like a “bus if-one-comes-by-it-will-probably-stop-if-it's-not-already-full”), and proceeded to wait for about an hour until a nearly full bus came by. It cost 6.50 pulla (less than a dollar) to ride to Gaborone, about an hour ride. We then got off the bus and caught a combi to Riverwalk mall, which cost 2.75 pulla (you do the math this time, it was cheap). So, it was an absolute zoo there, it was so crowded. We managed to find Sarah, and find a pizza place (which I had a pretty mean hankering for (and yes, I did just said hankering)). There we ordered two pizzas, margarita (not that good, too much cheese, and no basil) and a barbecue chicken pizza (pretty darn good, despite the chicken). After digesting (and after the full onset of our food comas had subsided), Sarah and I went to a grocery store in the mall. There I picked up some marshmallows, a cake mix, almond extract (well, it's actually called almond essence, translating to “almond artificial flavoring”), some coco crispies (the box was smaller than the regular rice crispies, and I didn't feel like lugging the larger one around), a water, some pretzels, and a yogurt drink (I know, I have already informed you of my weariness of certain dairy products, particularly yogurt, but it was strawberry, which I like, and I figured some pro-biotics wouldn't be bad for the ol' system). After about a total of 1.5 hours at the mall, we headed back to a combi, took it to the “bus rink” (pretty self-explanatory), and caught our bus back to Mmankgodi, via Manyana (pronounced like Spanish for “tomorrow”). Actually, we waited on the bus for about an hour before it was completely (overly) full and we left. By the end of the day, we had spent about two to three times more time in transit than we did actually at the mall (all in a day's work, right?).

Now I know you're saying that's all well and good, but why the cake mix? I'll tell you why, last week was my host-father's 65 birthday, and apparently nothing really goes on for birthdays around here, so I thought it would be a nice gesture to bake him a cake. So, with the assistance of Mango, we backed a two layer chocolate (Pilsbury, I know) cake with homemade almond flavored icing (I love almond flavored sweets. Growing up my family and I would journey to Racine, WI, to visit (aka, buy out) a small bakery (whose name currently escapes me, but is your typical Danish “Fll in the blank-sen Bakery”) that specialized in kringle (Danishes) and marzipan tarts (which is where my love for almond flavored desserts came from)). Despite an appearance that would probably not make the cover of “Country Home and Garden” (or be deemed a “good thing” by Martha Stewart), the cake was nonetheless very delicious and everyone in the family very much enjoyed it, especially my host-father.

2/16

After the entire cake was consumed in a matter of minutes (literally), I brought out the rice crispy treats for which I had gathered the ingredients earlier that day. Despite the only marshmallows I could find seemed to be flavored (although I couldn't quite place what they were flavored like), and the rice crispies were coated in “real and artificial (chocolate) flavoring,” the squares turned out very well, and were gone by the next morning. So Saturday night ended with the overindulgence in sweets, which was welcomed, as far as I am concerned.

Sunday morning began by sleeping in (yes, you heard me correctly, I said sleeping in, the first time since I've been able to do so since arriving) until about 9:30am. Sox and his mother went to church around 10am, but I decided to sit this one out and enjoy the beautiful weather (all that was missing was a hammock). After eating porage that Mango made for breakfast, Trevor (the cousin) and I went outside to take advantage of the weather and play some (all American) frisbee. For lunch Trevor made dumplings, but these are not your ordinary dumplings that come to mind in the US, rather, they were essentially flattened balls of dough that were put into about an inch of water in a large pot, using the steam from the water to bake. It was like a (glorious) mix between bagels, soft fresh bread, and matzo balls (what's not to like!). So, with a sauce made from some of the Pilchards (not half bad), we ate the dumplings. I prefer to eat with my hands whenever possible, so I took this opportunity to do just that (to me, food always tastes better when you can eat it with your hands, don't ask me why, it just does). After our late lunch (after our late breakfast) I proceeded to carry out the age old tradition of Sunday laundry. I had fewer underwear as the last time thanks to my ingenious system of washing and wearing, but the rest of my whites from that week ended up on the line (after the bathtub, of course) to dry in the African sun (which is much hotter than ours, despite similar air temperatures at home). The night ended with another round of pancakes, as requested by my host mother. In fact, she is even entertaining the notion of selling them (along with those Cheetos, and the like). I make sure to add enough sugar to the batter, so they really like pan-cakes. Trevor and I made sure to make two batches, and yes, those too were gone by the end of Monday morning (with which I helped to accomplish).

Before writing about today's (Monday's) events, I'd like to feature everyone's favorite segment: Dave's Random Observations. Let's begin with the disposal of trash, shall we? Recycling does not seem to be a major initiative in Botswana, which is understandable as the necessary resources to processes the tons of material to be recycled is expensive, time consuming, and equipment (and facility) dependent. Although, I did notice a recycling canister on the campus of the University of Botswana, which was a promising sight, indeed. However, just as I observed in Jamaica on a past visit, trash (and I mean everything, glass, metal, plastic, organic, inorganic, the kitchen sink) is burned. It seems that most people (I suppose this probably applies more to the villages than the cities) have a location on their property dedicated solely to this method of disposal. I also imagine that Botswana and Jamaica are two of many countries in the world currently using incineration as as a means of waste control. Despite any initial criticisms that come to mind (and I know they have), is there really a “good” way of disposing of the literal tons of trash we as human create on a daily basis? Landfills, incineration, recycling (rocket ship to the sun), they all have their pros and cons, costs and benefits, but I suppose this is the price of living in a world that focuses so much energy on material possessions (myself included, as I sit here typing on my netbook).

Continuing on, it turns out that what I thought was Cream of Wheat, it is actually the African equivalent, Cream of Sorghum, explaining the brownish hue. Now, despite seeing this porage consumed with mayonnaise (dare I even comment?), and with vegetables (taking the place of rice, or the like), my preferred method is still simply fresh milk and sugar (“fresh” meaning not sour, not fresh as in straight from the utter, which, as we now know, is sometimes an option). Understanding that what I have been consuming at least once a day since arriving in Mmankgodi is not, in fact, cream of wheat, but the sorghum equivalent, I am curious if the iron content is similar (in case you don't know, cream of wheat contains A LOT of iron, which, as a male, is not needed in such mass quantities (there's your nutritional lesson of the day)).

Moving on, I caught another WWE wrestling episode, but this was no ordinary episode, to say the least, it was (are you ready) The Royal Rumble. This is not to be confused with Wrestlemania (of course not), as that is the Super Bowl of wrestling, rather, this determines who the number one contender will be at the Wrestlemania. So how it works, is that the match begins with two contenders, and every 90 seconds another one comes out. After over an hour, and what seemed to be an endless supply of wrestlers (including Hacksaw Jim Duggin (oh yes, Hachsaw Jim Duggin! I couldn't believe it either (is anyone actually with me on this??). I remember when he wrestled Yokozuma, some 20 years ago, during the reign of the original Hulk Hogan (not Hollywood Hulk, blah))), it would be non other than Randy Orton that was the last standing. (I know you don't believe me from the depth of my WWE analysis, but really don't watch this stuff anymore (or at least rarely)). Anyhow, it was quite amusing to see all of the males (myself, once again, included) glued to the television as Randy Orton demonstrated his superior (acting) abilities. What I found particularly interesting, however, was the fact that in the US, this event is always on Pay-Per-View, and yet here, it was on one of the (few) satellite stations. Speaking of the television stations, I must also add that there is a 24/7 news program (similar to CNN Headline News (and no, I didn't get paid for that plug)) that originates in France, but is entirely in English. I suppose this will have to take the place of my www.reuters.com until I return.

Well, that about does it for my random observations of the post, now to simply some regular observations. Returning back to the normal 6:30am rise and shine, I met my porage and tea in the kitchen (still love my rooibos) and after some brief conversation with members of the family, I made my way (through the dunes) to the library. Today Lucia, the librarian, had returned to work, after being at training for the new online library management system for the past week. However, before I could really sit down and talk with Lucia, I was escorted by LuLu (whom they call “the old woman,” the same one that was in disbelief about my 20 hours per week work schedule) to the Mmonye primary school, a short walk from the library. I think I met every student (at least it felt that way), as I toured every class room (21), of which there are grades 1-7, each level with three separate classes, totally around 670 students. It was interesting when I met the assistant school headmaster, as he and LuLu had about a 15 minute conversation in Setswana (did I say interesting, I guess I meant a little odd as I starred at the walls). Regardless, meeting the children was fun. The girls have deep blue uniforms, while the boys sport the classic gray pants and white button-up shirt. There is currently no library (except some shelving a couple of the classrooms), but there are plans to convert the older building into a school library. The curriculum is in English and Setswana, and it was funny to hear the (same) response with every verbal interaction I had with the children: “Good morning sir,” “I am fine, and how are you?,” “Good bye.” Those lines were spoken in such unison, it was amazing (I bet Rosetta Stone can't do that). I also saw the “kitchen,” or rather, the concrete and metal roofed structure with a fire pit in the middle. On the fire was one of three very large jet black cast iron pots (kettles? cauldrons?). This is where lunch (or late breakfast) is prepared. To the right of the kitchen structure, sat all the logs used to sustain the fire's thirst for kindling, as it heated the water in the pots, intended for the 9-foot tall (3 meters, yes, they use metric here) stacked bags of porage. However, later in the tour, I was shown the new (also not yet operational) kitchen facilities. It was quite sophisticated, and a major step up from the current kitchen. Within the new facilities was some maize being dried in preparation for bagging, storage, eventual cooking, and finally consuming. The maize was processed by a group of eight woman called “stampers.” Apparently, they take their version of a mortar and pestle (basically the lower half of a tree trunk, seriously) and crush the maize into nearly a powder, spread it out on plastic sheets to dry, and then (I assume) send it to the kitchen. Talk about hard work, these ladies were tough.

After the conclusion of my tour, LuLu and I returned to the library where I finally chatted with Lucia about current issues in the library, some of my ideas regarding circulation statistics, programs, and working directly with BNLS. I then found myself in a conversation with a man (John Anderson, of all names!) about US politics. This was no ordinary idle chat, rather it was very informative verbal interaction with a man that was very well versed in world politics, history, and the current state of the world economy. It was a pleasure speaking with him (which I did for about 1.5 hours). At one point in his life he was a soldier for the Botswana Army, but left after deciding that the potential for war was not a responsible action (or re-action) in the world today. He is an aspiring politician, in fact, with an end goal to pursue a career in business, until he can one day afford to create a foundation for which he hopes to “help people.” He also explained to me that he used to frequent the VRR (village reading room) that was, at one time, the Mmankgodi library. He informed me that he had read nearly 90% of that collection, most of which are now housed in the new library. To sum up our interaction, I was simply impressed and happy to make his acquaintance.

During the day, I also briefly met with the instructor for the Adult Basic Education program. The program is taught in the evenings at the primary school, and I now understand that computer training makes up only a portion of the instruction (not the entirety), along with the same curriculum followed by the primary school. The intention of the program is to give adults an education that they, for whatever reason, missed when they were a child. Currently, there are 25 adults enrolled, it is free, and meets for two hours Monday-Friday. This is a government initiative and trial run, having only begun last October, but with the potential of extending into villages across Botswana. However, for the time being, there are not enough text books or staff (he is the only instructor in Mmankgodi), and therefore promotion is limited as to avoid a potentially larger (and unmanageable, given the resources) number of participants. Regardless, this is another demonstration of Botswana's dedication to brining education and information to its population at large.

This evening I made a noodle casserole (about as American as apple pie and baseball). And I thought two bags of pasta would be too much, not in this house of eight people. I made a white sauce and added some sautéed onion and green pepper, in addition to some eggs, poured it over the cooked noodles, and baked it until the noodles were fused together by the (power of) eggs. It was okay, but rather flavorless, in my opinion, despite the added corned beef (which came in a can resembling non other than, you guessed it, SPAM). Regardless, with a little salt (or dressing, as they the rest of the family used), it got the job done (although it was a far cry from any sort of cake, that is for sure).

OK, I suppose I can leave you with one more random observation. I have noticed that instead of squatting to pick things up or do something near the ground, people here tend to bend over instead. It's sort of an odd observation, but I notice those sorts of things (especially after having the “lift with your legs” motto ingrained in my memory). Oh, on a different random observation, if you would like to get into the business of selling umbrellas, you might want to consider moving to Botswana. Here umbrellas are used rain or shine (I mean it, they serve a purpose in both rain and shine). I always knew umbrellas were an incredible invention, but wow, I was never aware at how versatile they truly are (especially for someone coming from the dead of winter to a sun that feels as though it could cook an egg on my forearm). Well, I do believe that is a good place to call it a night, crawl into (well actually, it's more like on to) my inflatable mattress, and apply some anti-mosquito stick to my exposed skin (look at what I've resorted to).

The land of (sour) milk and honey

2/11
I must admit to you by now I am feeling almost like a reporter or journalist, carrying around my small notebook, jotting observations, thoughts, and comments, and later combining these notes into what seems to resemble some sort of article, or at least editorial commentary. Well, perhaps the lack of actual editing (spell check can only take you so far), these posts aren't quite up to the standard of “article” or “editorial” (unless the Onion counts), but I suppose their purpose is the same, to bring my experiences to you, which I hope I have been relatively successful in doing.

My day began at the usual 6:30am, bath, porage (although today was the sour porage, not my favorite, but with enough sugar I can tolerate it), tea, and then I began the short walk across the miniature sand dunes knowns as roads. Clouds were moving in on the horizon this morning, with a deep blue cast across the entire sky. The echo of thunder could also be heard, as the front moved in over the hills surrounding the village (one of which is actually known as Mmankgodi Hill). With the storm moving in, the temperature remained relatively cool, which after yesterday's heat, was a welcomed relief (remember, I came from the dead of winter to summer, in 15 hours! Although I do hear that the weather at home is beginning to warm up, at least by Wisconsin standards). My driver picked me up at 8am and we headed on the 35 minute ride into Gaborone for the second (and final) day of orientation. Today we met with the administrative offices, although this essentially translated into meeting with the accounting department, which took all of 15 minutes (as opposed to the one hour allotment of time predetermined for the meeting). Sarah and I then went to the Disability office (which sits next door the BNLS headquarters building), and there we meet with two of the staff member (of which we had already met with last week and received a tour of the facility). We then proceeded to chat and wait until it was time for the next session, which actually lasted quite a while.

Finally we talked with Elliot (now you have to understand, I have enough trouble remembering names of people I meet at home, so you can imagine what a struggle it is for me to remember Setswana names, especially when they come in 20 people doses. However, Elliot (and Max, Trevor, Maxi, KB, etc) I can handle. Apparently most people have two names, either a Setswana name and then a an English nickname, or (in our case) an English name with a Setswana nickname (of which I received another one today, I think, called “Poster” (don't ask))), and he explained the Village Reading Room (VRR) program. The program is part of the BNLS system, but essentially places (or has placed since 1986) small, one room buildings across the country (a total of 68, to be exact), and then provides a very limited number of books for each location. Each VRR is run by one library officer (the title Elliot used), responsible for gate keeping (this is literal gate keeping, not the infamous library and information studies theoretical gate keeping), librarianship, cleaning, gardening, and any other task you could think of. The VRRs are open from 9am-4pm with an hour lunch break (which means it's closed). Evidently Mmankgodi and Kopong were both originally VRRs, but thanks to the Rothchild Foundation, new libraries were built (along with new collections added to those libraries). I inquired if the policies and guidelines running the VRRs has changed along with the times (demand, growing population, changing community needs and wants, etc), but the answer was no (although I guess it is under review, but if the Botswana government is anything like US government, I wouldn't expect any results from the apparent review before we head home (or even by our next visit, whenever that would be)). In addition to the typical budget constraints and under-staffing (in fact, if the number of staff were a decimal, say 0.1, and we rounded to the nearest whole number (0 is a number, right?), there wouldn't be any staff at all (ok students, now take out your assignment notebooks)), according to Elliot, there isn't even a vision for the future direction of the VRRs; no long term goals. Oh, and did I mention that most of them have no electricity? After some questions and answers, we found out that BNLS basically uses the budget as a general fiscal blanket, rather than creating any sort of prioritized list for the allocation of library funding. It appears that BNLS works from the top down, rather than from the bottom up (which is fine, I am not criticizing, simply making an observation). In other words, from our discussions today, it seems as though BNLS determines what to give to which libraries, rather than having the libraries tell BNLS what they need. Perhaps I misunderstood, but I believe there is a definite struggle to provide relevant collections to each library because BNLS is basically forced to purchase in (Sam's Club style) bulk, in order to get the best price on books. Therefore, it makes it very difficult to custom tailor any sort of ordering for each individual library. Bottom line (and the cause of and solution to all of life's problems), money money money.

Elliot is a funny guy, very relaxed and very sharp (apparently, “sharp” is an English word that was adopted into Setswana as a from of expressing, what we would call, “cool.” So, you'll hear it often said, although it doesn't sound like how we say it, it sounds closer to “shop”). He wants us to tour a few of the VRRs in the area of Gaborone, and then to get our perspective, opinions, advice, etc, which we are more than happy to give.

After Elliot, we met with the (wife of Kopong's chief, the “queen” of Kopong) woman in charge of the mobile libraries, of which there are currently six (mostly in the larger cities). The program was originally started with British funding, but was eventually taken over by BNLS. Again, the funding comes from the lump sum of BNLS funding, and there appears to be no priorities regarding the allocation of those funds. This meeting was relatively short (which fine with us, the day had already been long by that time), and we basically hung out with the two staff members of the Disability department for a good couple of hours, had some tea, and used the internet (is it even necessary to express love for the internet, I swear, I am part of a generation that is comprised of countless internet addicts and technology junkies (myself included), and despite the power going out three times while attempting to post my blog and respond to emails, it was extremely satisfying).

Before getting to my random observations, I'd like to briefly go over some major issues facing the libraries hat I am seeing, as well as being expressed by BNLS staff. First of all, money is always an issue, and BNLS does not differ from this seemingly current world-wide standard. Now Sarah and I are here to help in our respective libraries, to work on programming and library advocacy specifically. However, I would like to point out other areas that either we could work with or future interns could undertake. Essentially, it appears that the problems (which the staff continually bring up) are rooted at the source (basically government protocol), and not in the end product (the libraries). Furthermore, Sarah and I have both been really impressed with the self-sufficiency of our libraries, particularly in terms of already existing programs including elderly computer training (as I mentioned last time), and also in terms of some statistical procedures currently practiced in all the libraries. So this is very positive, despite budget shortfalls. And even though we (as students) may not be able to necessarily penetrate the problems at their source, we can provide perspective and new ideas to people (BNLS staff) that can tackle certain problems at their source. That said, I would discuss issues with funding allocation, as I described the difficulties faced above. Also, although statistics are taken regarding some aspects of circulation, it is my understanding that there is no system in place to statistically track the circulation history of any one book. Because of this, it makes it nearly impossible to weed the collection. If, for instance, new statistical guidelines were established (perhaps with the launch of the new online library management system, Unicorn), there could be more depth to library circulation statistics, resulting in weeding, resulting in possible booksales (or creating a books-for-sale corner in the library, generating community interest), resulting in potential revenue (however small). Finally, I would also advocate for a tighter relationship with the University of Botswana's Department of Library and Information Studies, specifically in regard to projects (such as a village documentary or oral tradition preservation) that can be featured in the library and be used to gain academic credit by current students. These are all just ideas at the moments, but I intend on bringing them up to various staff members as time goes by, especially since the BNLS staff have already communicated their desire to have our input and ideas to help “catch them up” with other information standards from around the world.

OK, so there is the rundown of my day today. Now, to get to the general observations. So, both on the way to, and the way back from Gaborone, the driver and I saw two accidents (well, they had just happened). This isn't anything out of the ordinary, in fact, after today, I've seen a total of seven accidents in less than two weeks (not to mention the two completely burnt-out steel frames of what must have once been cars on the side of the road), including actually witnessing one. People tend to drive fast here, on roads that are too small for the ever-increasing load of traffic going into and out of Gaborone. Even the driver made the comment that the roads (wide enough to accommodate two-way traffic and a shoulder on each side) are too small, and people are too often “taking over” (aka passing) when it is not safe. So the moral of the story is: just as popular as belt buckles are here, so too should be seat belts.

Also, just a side note, my library is currently out of ink in its printer (did you expect more than one?). People seem to come in relatively often to have photo copies made, so there is a demand for it. However, the only way to get more ink is to comply with some sort of (unclear) bureaucratic protocol, which must be phoned in. But, since the phone in the library is currently down (and has been since last week), this makes the task a bit more difficult (although I still do not understand why someone doesn't use their cell phone...don't ask me, I'm from out of town). So, the moral of this story is: when working with libraries in emerging countries, expect the unexpected (like slow (or no) internet, no phones, and electricity that comes and goes).

2/12

Good morning. Once again we meet under the roof of the library (and out of the currently falling rain). I arrived at around 8am, shelved my usual stack of books, and then proceeded to wait until Professor Nathan Mnjama and Professor Angelina Tortoli (not sure on either of those spellings, I'll have to check a print out that I have, and hopefully I won't forget before posting this), from the University of Botswana. We meet last week, and they are both very lovely people, polite, well-spoken, and funny. This was one of several meetings that we will have throughout our stay in Botswana. They basically wanted to check in and see how things are doing (and were nice enough to inquire about my living, food, and financial situations, and overall comfort level, which was very kind of them to ask). We met for about an hour, and I presented my initial thoughts and observations regarding the library, BNLS, and the internship, itself. They were both very responsive to everything I had to say, just as I was very interested to hear all of their thoughts. I presented all of my ideas that I mentioned yesterday, and we may follow up on many of them (although some were simply observations at the macro level, which for our situation would make them quite difficult to positively impact or initiate change). Professor Nathan (for the sake of ease) even responded to my observations about the centralization of collection development (and other centralized operations of BNLS) with a suggestion about perhaps taking the last month of our stay to work at BNLS and to really experience the managerial side of Botswana's National Library Service (which I think would be a terrific experience, and would truly make the greatest and most diverse use of our time for both us and BNLS). The professors also presented the idea of sitting in on their courses (of which I am also an advocate for, as I believe I mentioned in a previous post). Professor Nathan teaches in the area of archives management, and is interested in hearing my ideas regarding the marketing and advertisement of libraries. Professor Angelina teaches in the areas of information needs, services, and sources, and was very enthusiastic about bringing us into her classroom for both observation and participation. Overall, the meeting was very productive (and a bit relieving to be honest), and I feel that working with them will be a very positive experience.

So, I don't know if it was the Wimpy extravaganza from the other day, or the beef that I ate the other night (you know where this is going...), but my stomach has not been on its best behavior as of late (although, as a disclaimer, I will reveal that this “bad behavior” has not manifested itself in a way that brings cipro (with which my fellow travelers are well acquainted) to mind, but just in terms of a small apatite and a general (coming and going) discomfort). As one of my many theories, I have convinced myself that perhaps my stomach no longer possesses the proper digestive enzymes to breakdown beef, having been a matter of years since my last encounter (then again, I'm a librarian, not a biologist). So remembering an episode of CSI Miami (ah, Horatio Cane, I look forward to our next meeting (and your next one-liner) and yes, CBS, no need to point it out, Gabe, I'm proud of my CBS watching habits) it is my understanding that meat (red meat in particular) typically takes a lot of time to digest, and it just sits in your stomach (or intestines) eventually breaking down. Therefore, I speculate that my stomach (or intestines) is not used to having to perform the necessary biological functions to digest my meal from the other night (either that, or Wimpy not only describes the local fast food joint, but also my digestive tract) (just when you thought it couldn't get more personal than the bit about my underwear, here we are...).

This morning I had my first experience with “fat cakes.” These are essentially more bread-y and non-sweet donuts (a far cry from Greenbush...mmmmm....Boston cream), but very tasty (what's not to like about deep fried bread?). You know, it's funny, here I thought I would return home skinner, but at this rate, it appears that the opposite is more likely! I may necessarily eat the quantity of food that I eat at home, but the richness of the food here far outweighs the richness of the food I eat at home. Not to mention the vast quantities of starchy foods that are part of the typical diet (tough luck Atkins). Don't get me wrong, I completely support the consumption of starchy foods (especially couscous, particularly with some Parmesan cheese and diced tomatoes, and maybe some minced green onion mixed in), I am just not quite used to the quantity, not the quality.

Oh, and just for your information (sorry Gillian), when someone says they have the flu, it really means they just have a cold (at least I really hope so).

2/13

“A-maize-ing”

Greetings on this sunny, breezy morning. We have much to discuss, including the acquisition of a bottle of wine last night, an extremely awkward half hour conversation, a new take on “puppy chow,” meeting the village social worker, and meeting the village agricultural representative. First, however, I regret to inform you that it's official, upon my return home, I am afraid I will have to retire my Dockers brown leather shoes. The hot sun and sand (and piles of cow dung) have begun to take their toll on these (former) dress shoes. I also imagine by the time I return, I will have to restock my dress pants (and hopefully interview pants) supply, as the sun has already begun to fade some of them, especially when hanging out to dry (and the cycle continues).

Last night was very interesting. I hung out with KB and Mango (well, her name is Muango, but it's easier to call her Mango, no to mention mangoes are excellent), my host brother and sister. In the late afternoon KB had returned from one of the local bars (actually, it's pretty much a room with a counter and some alcohol behind that counter), and was interested my perspective of alcohol. I informed him that on occasion I have been known to partake in the consumption of alcoholic beverages, namely wine (or brandy and water). He was thrilled to here this news, I actually was quite surprised. I appears that drinking (at least in my host family) is somewhat taboo, or perhaps that word is a bit strong. So, he said “we should get a bottle of wine,” and upon my response of “ok, why not,” KB was almost in a state of disbelief. I explained to him how drinking wine is an aspect of meals, socializing, and health (among other uses, we are all aware of). So, from that point we (KB, Mango, and myself) embarked on a rigid search for a bottle of wine. This journey took us to our first stop at the one of the local “watering holes,” in which the wine selection was (as expected) pretty sparse. It included two South African wines, one with a cork and one with a screw top (I'll let you do the math as to which one was more expensive). So the prices were 50 pulla (about $5) and 25 pulla (about $3) (I am guessing on those conversions, as of last night it was 7.8 pulla to 1 dollar, thanks Botswana 9pm English newscast). So, after deciding to try our luck at another location (within walking distance, of course), we found the same prices and the same selection (shocker). However, there was this “Arabian Liquor,” similar to Kaluha (no idea of that spelling). KB said he likes this drink mixed with milk (and might I add, regarding milk, that there doesn't seem to be 1%, 2%, or skim here, it simply “milk: whole cream,” and that's it. So if anything, I have now determined that I am not, in fact, lactose intolerant (so there, Gabe)). As I spoke with Mango prior to setting out on our wine-finding journey, I kept describing desserts (possibly because I have been craving sweets lately, since the majority of food here tends to be salty, and there are seemingly no desserts (which, coming from a family with a sweet tooth, can be a problem)). During the discussion, I expressed my desire to bake cookies (of which I learned to do as a child); however, I could not remember the measurements in the recipe. Despite the fact of my faulty memory, we decided to drive one town over (starts with a “T,” sorry, it's that darn memory!) to a Choppies, a regional grocery chain. I collected some ingredients necessary to perform the equivelant of an experiment, but realizing that the end result would simply be a waste of of those ingrediants, I decided to make a variation of puppy chow (well actually, the decision to make puppy chow was due to the sheer lack of ingredients to make anything else). Finding chocolate bars (instead of chips) and using rice crispies (instead of chex or crispex), and upon our arrival home, I proceeded to melt everything together (including some margarine, yes, margarine, not butter, ironically enough), mixed in the rice cripies, and that was that. It was a success, everyone really liked it (including me!). I wouldn't advocate for the use of rice cripies in puppy chow, but it got the job done. Before arriving home, however, we did make a pit stop at another bar, and despite my my hesitation about buying a bottle of wine that looked as though it was bottled in a backyard, KB insisted on the price of 25 pulla, and I agreed. Turns out, peanut butter and honey sandwiches, rice cripies puppy chow, and cheap red wine go nicely together (well, at least they “go”).

Now I must turn back the clock to yesterday afternoon, before we sought out the fermented grapes, I had to deal with explaining with my hours to the library staff (and yes, it was a dealing). This is the half hour of extremely awkward conversation, mentioned above. To explain, Lucia (my librarian that has been at a training session for the new library management system all week) was present at the meeting with BNLS when we discussed our 20 hour/week requirement. However, that information did not reach the rest of the library staff at Mmankgodi, which was under the impression that would be working from 7:30am until 6pm, everyday. So, I requested the (translation) help of my host sister, Mango, and she explained to them that I am working five hours a day, and the rest of the day doing activities with the family, working on other library stuff, or just relaxing. I don't think they (well, it is one in particular that is so fond of me, that I think she is worried she won't get enough time with me) exactly understood the agreement that UW-Madison, U of Botswana, and BNLS has regarding our work requirements. So, after being, essentially a fly on a wall for a half hour, while Mango explained the situation, I was “allowed” to leave and go home. In the evening, I texted (SMS) Lucia and just asked her to explain the agreement with the rest of the staff when she gets a chance. She said she would, and to not worry about it, I can “knock off” (quit for the day) whenever I feel like it (I was relieved, to say the least). So, today I am planning on leaving at 1 (8am-1pm) and with any luck, will head to Gaborone. If not today, I plan on going there tomorrow with KB and Mango, catch a movie, and eat some pizza (although I haven't seen a Papa Johns or a Glass Nickel around).

This morning I ventured across village (as opposed to across town?) to meet the village social worker. She and I engaged in a nice a conversation about the current status of Mmankgodi, as well as her roles in the village. I was particularly interested in hearing about the orphans of Botswana, and what is being done on their behalf. Apparently, the number of orphans is rising (most due to losing their parents, including some from AIDS), and there are currently 164 in this village of 5,000. Adoption rates are extremely low, and in the past five years, has only occurred once (as per the social worker's memory). In addition to working with orphans, she also participates in community development. I asked if she works with the library, the answer was no, but there are plans in the future, she said.

From there, we walked over to the department of agriculture, and I met with the head (and only employee) of the department. He briefly described the government initiatives currently being taken to help educate farmers of villages across the country (each village has its own agricultural department, just as each village has its own social worker). This includes showing how to plow fields, demonstrating new technologies, helping with the supply of fertilizer (the soil is basically clay or sand here, making it tough to grow anything). He said he would arrange for me to tour a couple fields, maybe next week.

Breakfast was basically corn on the cob, or rather, maize on the cob. It was good, but it does differ from our corn at home. It is less sweet, and a bit dryer, but the appearance is the same. I had some maize in Peru, and it was exactly like it is here (which doesn't help you, but just thought I'd through it out there). It was cooked in a pan, rather than boiled, and then salted. I have another one waiting for me for lunch, will be in about an hour (in addition to my puppy chow concoction).

Another quick observation: people use snuff here.

Also, I just want to thank everyone for the comments, and I am glad people are enjoying the tales! Oh, and sorry for the length of this one!

Beef, it's what's for dinner (seriously)

So where is it that I am actually staying, you say? I am located in the village of Mmankgodi, about 35 minutes northwest from the city of Gaborone, the largest city in Botswana (about half the size of Madison). The population of Mmankgodi is about 5000, and the village is divided into quadrants, North, South, East, and West. The totem of the village is the baboon, for which there are many in the area (although I have yet to actually spot one). There is a library (obviously), a post office, a police force, and a local court/government office. The roads are primarily reddish sand paths (often making me feel as though I'm walking on the beach, rather than the middle of southern Africa), with some being wider than others. A pipe nearly a foot in diameter runs through the part of the village where I am staying, and feeds water throughout the village. There is a primary and secondary school, the oldest being built in 1970 (at least I assume this is the case, judging by the “1970” on the side of the building). I am staying near the primary school, so the hustle and bustle of the children usually wakes me in the morning (usually before my alarm clock, which I set for 6:30am). My host mother actually has a nice little business out of a small room on the side of the house. She stock piles bags of what we would call Cheetos (and when I say bags, I mean BAGS. Not only does she have 8-10 bags at any given time, but these bags are nearly taller than I am! (not that I am the tallest guy in the world, as we all know (despite being the tallest in my immediate family, what do you think of them apples?), but a bag even half my height is quite an impressive bag, as far as the world of bags in concerned (is there such a thing?)), and sells small individual sandwich bags filled with the pseudo-Cheetos (and actually, they not only come in your typical (caution orange colored) cheddar, but here they also have tomato flavor and beef flavor.). In addition to these puffy snacks of the cheesy persuasion, she also sells popsicles, which on a hot Botswana day is a welcomed treat. My host mother must do very well selling these, as every weekend she heads to Gaborone to restock her supply.

So I arrived at the library this morning around 7:30am and shelved my books. I then received a phone call asking me “how far am I?” I replied, “from what,” and the voice answered that I should have already been picked up from the library to head into Gaborone for an orientation (I would have been more concerned had this not happened to Sarah just last week). So, I said no problem, and I waited until the driver showed up. We then began the 35 minute drive into Gabs (as they call it, or GC), placing me at the BNLS headquarters around 10:45am. Having missed the first two sessions/meetings with individuals from the library system, I made it just in time to meet with a librarian that oversees the National Reference Library (apparently the head of the library was on leave). The woman we met with (Mouthati Aaolebale, to be exact (say that three times fast)) was hilarious, and had a very good sense of humor when it came to my humor (which certainly is an acquired taste). She explained how the library worked, including showing us the archives (which is typically off limits, as I found out by asking her if I should bring my camera (the answer was no)). The room was relatively small, and consisted of five rows of two-sided shelving, holding preserved newspapers, as well as red leather bound volumes of (what appeared to be) government documents. We then went across the hallway to another room which holds UN publications. Now, she explained to us that the library is all under the Dewey Decimal system (DDC), but the UN publications are classified using the UN's own system, the Universal Decimal Classification system (UDC). Neither Sarah, nor I have encountered the UDC system before (nor anyone within the BNLS), so the publications currently sit in that room waiting to be classified (or deciphered) and shelved with the rest of the collection. During the course of discussion with Mouthati, I found out that the National Reference Library acts in a capacity similar to that of our own Library of Congress, in that publishers will request an ISBN or ISSN from the Library, and then once issued, the publisher is required by law to submit two copies of whatever it is that was assigned an ISBN or ISSN. These acquired books are then added to the non-circulating collection, and made available to the public. However, despite this similarity in function, there are other dissimilarities (some more obvious than others, eh hem, the budget), for instance there is no special collections or rare book section. In fact, their archives only date back to 1958 (aka independence). Mouthati also expressed concerns about security (or the lack thereof), as there is no formal security besides a guard to check patrons' books before leaving (although Mouthati conceded that sometimes the guards won't even check) and the rule that requires an patron to leave their bags in a designated area. Apparently there is a very minimal relationship between the NRL and the University of Botswana. Officially, NRL is governmentally mandated to acquire and preserve oral history; however, they do not have the staff, training, or equipment (basically money) to fulfill this aspect of their duties. I suggested that perhaps the University would be a better candidate to take on the responsibility of finding and acquiring oral histories, just as is done on UW's campus. The University (comparatively) has the money and resources to take on such a task, and I'm sure (well, I'm guessing) that there must be a department (cultural anthropology, history, ethnography) that is interested in Botswana oral traditions. Our meeting ended soon after, and we moved on to the Bibliographic Support Services (BSS) department.

The BSS has many functions, including acquisitions, cataloging, and IT support. In fact, those are the three sections that divide the department as a whole. BNLS is currently preparing to launch a new library management system, called “Unicorn,” that will be an online system similar to that of “Voyager” used on UW's campus libraries. This is a great step in making information more accessible for the people of Botswana. Not only have they already begun barcoding their books (which will make things much easier in terms of retrieving information regarding any one book), but the system, itself, will be online (yes, I know, an online system is only as good as its connection, which will be one giant hurtle that will need be overcome before the full potential of an electronic library management system can truly be seen and used). This system is intended to go live in April, so hopefully we (Sarah and I) will be witness to this great step forward in information management for the country of Botswana. After discussing Unicorn with the head of BSS, we then discussed certain constraints (aka, money (again)). Evidently, the BSS has not purchased new books for the past two years because the budget is so tight. Instead, they have felt it to be more beneficial to put the funds that they do have towards periodicals, rather than books, as periodicals are used more frequently by the patrons. BSS acquires books for all of the public libraries in Botswana, and it is only from Bob Rothchild that the new “lost children” libraries (mine and Sarah's) have any books at all (or so is my understanding). Did I mention that the IT section is made up of only two (yes, two) people. That means, the budget will only allow for two people to be responsible for the IT for the entire library system (!). I predict (and inquired if) this will change when the new management system is implemented, as two people for an entire library system that will (supposed to) be online, is far too understaffed. As for the actual process that takes place in BSS, they make selections (based on community surveys), receive the books, catalog the books, create and attach spin labels (as well as barcodes (oh precious barcodes)), record the information on a uniform form called “agent 12” (not to be confused with orange), the the book is shipped to its respective library and put on the shelf. I also found out that interlibrary loan (ILL) is a reality here, and they use the postal service for delivery (for a fee, of course, (despite BNLS being a governmental organization) since the postal service in Botswana is half privately owned and half governmentally owned).

Between the above meetings, Sarah and I had lunch at (none other then) Wimpy (which Professor Smith was kind enough to give some background on the chain in a comment, thanks!). I was hungry and thirsty, and actually a bit tired (remember, cheetos and popsicles...), so I ordered the veggie burger (as I was successful with it last time) with fries (I had a conversation about the whole crips vs. chips, but to be honest, I just don't remember what the outcome of that conversation was! I think had something to do with fries being called fried chips, and chips being called chips, or perhaps I've just confused myself (as well as you)), a coffee (as precious as the barcode), a strawberry smoothie (aka milkshake), and shared a salad. Guess what the price of my meal was including tip? Give up? About $11 or $12, not too shabby, eh? Anyhow, after a visit to the ATM (precious, but not quite as precious as coffee and the barcode), we found our driver (I love saying that) and returned to BNLS, where we eventually left and returned to our libraries.

Now, turning to today's random observations, I will discuss clothing, public messages, and road works. I find it interesting that on the drive into Gaborone, I see road crews cleaning the roads and cutting the grass along the sides. However, this differs greatly from the US (at least with cutting the grass), such that the grass is cut by hand (or golf club shaped tool). I have yet to see a mower or any sort of gas or electric powered machine doing this work. And there are a lot of people out doing it, too. It's as though the sides of the roads are filled with golfers swinging and missing and swinging again, until the grass is cut to an acceptable length. Just as the US (and the rest of the world) is facing economic hardships, so too is Botswana, and perhaps the use of this (hard) labor provides jobs for the citizens of this country, similar to that of FDR's Civilian Conservation Corps (thanks high school history class). So it is possible that using many people to complete the job of one machine may not seem to be the most cost productive or even fiscally responsible approach on the surface; however, using public works as a means to employ citizens and provide financial relief in a stagnant economy may actually serve the function of providing economic stimulus, thereby establishing a sound economic foundation on which to build an even stronger and more productive economy for the future (was that just an economics lesson? It couldn't have been, I never took it in college, and don't even ask about high school).

On to my next observation: public messages. Not only does the library serve as a location for public messages ranging from malaria, food born illnesses, and breast cancer, to sex, pregnancy, and HIV AIDS, but I keep encountering similar public messages in local newspapers, on television, in magazines, and on billboards. It is actually quite impressive, if I may say so (and I may, since this is my blog). It was my understanding that although a high rate (near 40%) of the population is infected with HIV, the Botswana government has (and is) taking great steps to educate and provide support in an effort to combat this serious problem. I think it says a lot about a country to find so many adds trying to educate the public about health issues. It also says something about the need for that very same education, and as a (soon to be) information professional, I would argue that it is from the lack of access to (good) information that has contributed to similar problems as those mentioned above. So, I see two sides to this coin of public messages: the first side demonstrates the government's commitment to educating the public; while the second side shows the sheer lack of access to good information in the first place, which perhaps is one reason we are here.

Finally, my last observation, this one dealing specifically with the code of dressing (and it ain't 1000 Island, or a raspberry vinaigrette (of which the latter I am particularly fond of)). Since I am currently not able to provide visual aids for your enjoyment, I feel it necessary to comment on the dress code that I have seen so far, to create another dimension to the mental images that you have constructed based on my writings. I have encountered three general categories of clothing: the professional, the casual, and the rural (for lack of a better term). In the realm of professionalism, particularly in regard to BNLS, I have noticed employees there are dressed in quite nicely, the women in fancy shoes (aka, heels?), and nice tops (to be honest, I have no idea how to describe women's clothing, and I did not realize this until right now. So, for that reason, I will only comment on men's clothing, which kind of sounds weird now that I think about it, but I suppose I pay more attention to that because I am always worried that I am not properly dressed for an occasion. So on that note, let us return to the conversation), while men are in your standard button up long sleeve shirts, often with a blazer (more often than not it is a dark blazer), and typically dark pants, black shoes (some are particularly pointy, which I am not very keen on myself), and I have frequently seen belt buckles, lots of belt buckles (had I known that, I would have brought my original 1973 Aztec Calender belt buckle (thanks again, dad)). In professional situations outside of the city (or BNLS), I have noticed similar trends, only not quite as formal (such as in the government offices in the villages, where blazers and the like are still warn, but they may be in tweeds, browns, or other colors), and no belt buckles. The casual wear tends to center around jeans (are you seeing a trend here about pants? Well, in case you aren't, I'll go ahead and point it out. I wear pants every day, and yes, to answer your question, it is hot. I can't imagine wearing a blazer, of which I have only done once so far), and t-shirts. If shorts are worn, they tend to be a bit longer, past the knees. Sandals and tennis shoes are both common, as are baseball hats, oddly enough (but here, wearing a baseball hat actually serves a purpose, something I like to call “blocking out the sun so I can see and not get sun burned on my face”). As for the rural community (aka, this past weekend at the cattle post), as my pictures will show later, shoes are optional, and sometimes the only thing left of the shoe are the laces and the soles. Shirts and pants are in pretty rough shape from what I could see. Some were shredded, had holes, stretched out, faded, or any other similar characteristic that would indicate wear and tear. So there you have it, the dress code as I have seen it from the country to the city.

OK, one final note. I am now going to talk about my underwear (I suppose this sort of fits above, right?). Well, hanging on the side of the bath tub are people's underwear. Although I find myself actually in the bath tub twice daily, I never put much thought into the underwear's presence, as I suppose it blended with the hanging wash clothes. Until, I noticed that when someone does laundry, I often don't see underwear hanging on the line to dry. So, yesterday I put two and two together (at least I think I did), which is to say, I think that when people in my family take a bath, they first wash their underwear and bring a new pair to wear after the bath. Then by the the next day (or specifically the next day's first bath), their underwear is dry. Essentially you could get by with only two pairs of underwear! I don't think I'll necessarily try that last thought, but think about it, pretty darn efficient if you ask me. Anyhow, just so you can all relax, I did bring more than two pairs of underwear, so there is no need to worry about my underwear situation, but thanks for your concern (was that too much information? Oh well).

Oh, and beef with a side of maize meal and some cooked chopped vegetables was dinner (and it has been many years since my last beef encounter, I must say). KB cooked, and I wash up afterwards. The thing about cooking for my host family, is that it is so big, it can be quite the undertaking cooking for six people (especially every day). Our meals here are pretty relaxed, and we usually eat them where ever, and not necessarily together. Tonight KB, Sox, Christoff (cousin), and I ate in the living room (I guess that's what it would be called). After the meal, they were all chewing on the bones, and sucking out the marrow. I remember my dad used to tell me about my grandma doing that (at least I think that's right), of course she was raised by Ukrainian immigrants (my great grandparents Babinski from the towns of Cherkassy and Zolotonashka, both on the Dnieper River, south of Kiev (too much? I did mentioned I'm an amateur genealogist, remember?) ). Anyhow, I tried bitting the bone, but I was afraid of breaking a tooth! (that would be the last thing I need). And with that said, I believe I will end this rambling of words I call a blog post, enjoy.