June 16

After my trip to Cape Town and Namibia there were only six short weeks before semester exams and the end of the term. That time has flown by and only the calendar and the snow on the mountains convince me that it’s already June. Perception of time really messes with my head here. Part of that is due to the reversal of the seasons – everything feels like it’s been hit by a time warp when Easter is in fall and Halloween is in spring. But on top of that the slower pace in St. Rodrigue allows the weeks and months to sneak by me. Can’t have that meeting today? Oh well, we’ll just try again next week. And if that doesn’t work out, there’s always next month. I’ve become accustomed (for the most part) to this attitude of it’ll-happen-when-it-happens that governs my schedule with few exceptions. So it feels shocking and a little bewildering when I learn that back home people have graduated, taken vacations, won competitions, and planted gardens in the same time it’s taken me to just plod along with classes and make baby steps of progress on my side projects.

I don’t want to give the impression that my May was completely without adventure. My co-fellow’s cousin came from India to visit us for a few days, and her timing happened to coincide with a long weekend for us. So we took the opportunity to visit Semonkong, which is just a few hours from Maseru by public taxi. Semonkong is home to a stunning waterfall that drops into a canyon that seem to appear out of nowhere, cutting deeply between the gentle grassy foothills that look very similar to the scenery in St. Rodrigue. We stayed in a very cozy lodge nestled right next to the river and surrounded by evergreen woods. The town of Semonkong itself is pretty small, and wouldn’t differ much from any other village in the area if it weren’t for its designation as a tourist attraction. The differences were subtle, but there were more people and the buildings suggested a higher standard of living (i.e. more concrete homes, fewer rondavels).

The lodge offered both pony rides to the falls and abseiling (rappelling) down the canyon wall. I spent the first four months of my fellowship cajoling my co-fellow into making sure she rides a horse (for the first time) before leaving Lesotho. So plunging 670 feet alongside icy water would have been asking too much bravery. And honestly I would have needed some convincing before attempting it myself  – my relationship with heights is about the same as my relationship with fast food. I don’t necessarily hate it, but I don’t seek it out, either. In any case, if I were going to try the abseil I’d do it when the weather was warmer.

The horse ride was pretty idyllic. Our three small but sure-footed ponies led us to the falls – or rather a spot across the canyon from the falls where we could sit and take in the view. When I say the ponies led us there I really do mean they showed us the way. Our guide followed behind us and would casually offer directions to keep left or right.

On the way to the falls we stopped at a small goat farm where it was apparently shearing day and workers were stuffing huge bags full of mohair. Electricity seems to be slightly more common in Semonkong than St. Rodrigue, but not by much. So there were no electric clippers to be seen – only the familiar wide-bladed shears that look like giant scissors but don’t really function like scissors at all. I know from experience that shearing this way is long and exhausting work. The sharpness of the blade makes a big difference though, and sure enough there were a few people using stones to whet their shears in between goats.

When we arrived at our waterfall-viewing destination we spent a long time just relaxing enjoying the gorgeous view and sunny weather while our ponies wandered around the slopes and helped themselves to a snack. I’m sure it’s even more beautiful in the summer when the grass is green, but it had been raining enough that there was still a lot of water tumbling to the river below. It was difficult to grasp the scale of the landscape, but every now and then a bird flying across the chasm would show up as a tiny flicker of white and bring the whole scene into sharp relief.

We had another long weekend later in May due to the elections. Fourteen years ago there were riots in Maseru over election results. In the lead-up to this year’s elections, there was some concern that there would be a repeat of that violence. Lesotho has been peaceful in the intervening years, but Mosisili has been prime minister since 1997, and the sentiment that the government is long overdue for a change in power has become increasingly prevalent. When Mosisili split from his party to create a new party overnight, taking supporters from his old party with him, this irritation with Mosisili as the establishment became even more acute. So the tension surrounding the election (as I understood it) had more to do with shifting political power, and doing so transparently and peacefully, than with a handful of popular issues.

I had a very visual reminder of the excitement surrounding the upcoming elections the day after we returned to St. Rodrigue from Semonkong. I was in the middle of teaching the A2s about factoring when a helicopter swooped low outside the classroom window. My students promptly went nuts. There were ten minutes left in class, but reining in their attention was clearly futile. So my team-teacher and I decided to let them run outside and check out the aircraft landing in the grass outside the convent. The helicopter was delivering boxes of ballots, presumably because there are too many remote poll stations to deliver all the ballots by road in a short amount of time. It probably helped security too – it’s a lot easier to sabotage a truck than a helicopter.

The high school was designated as a poll station and a couple weeks prior there had been training sessions for people monitoring voting stations. It took me a day or two to figure out why there were so many people I’d never seen before hanging around the convent.

As I mentioned, there was a slight chance of a violent response in Maseru to the election results. Everyone said that such an event was unlikely, but because it had happened before it was wise to be cautious. The US embassy sent me an email saying pretty much the same thing – stay calm, but lay low – and expats in Maseru picked up some bottled water and canned goods, just in case.

Because of the elections we had a long weekend, so my co-fellow and I decided to hunker down at a friend’s place in Maseru (plus cat-sit). The home where we stayed is right next to the US embassy (literally a stone’s throw, but I wouldn’t recommend that), so we figured it was a pretty safe place to be. And anyway, if there were going to be riots, it was most likely to be a few days later, when results came in, by which time we would be back in St. Rodrigue.

When election day (May 26) finally came the streets of Maseru were quiet and everything appeared to go smoothly. Even better was the news that came in the following weeks – Mosisili was not re-elected, but there also wasn’t a clear majority winner, so the parties that were previously minorities (when Mosisili was in power) formed a coalition government. The new prime minister is the head of the All Basotho Convention (ABC party), Tom Thabane.

My limited understanding of parliamentary politics is threatening to show through here, so if you want to know more details I’d recommend the BBC coverage here and here.

A couple weeks later I was at the mall running errands, when all the TVs in the restaurants and food court were tuned to live coverage of what I thought at first was the inauguration. Later I found out it was more of an official ceremony that recognized Mosisili was stepping down from power and Thabane was taking his place. Both leaders gave speeches, and while Mosisili received polite, reserved silence from the audience at the mall, the crowd that had gathered around the TVs by the time Thabane spoke was whistling and stamping and cheering after his every sentence. Many people were clearly ABC supporters, wearing the Packers-style green and yellow colors of the party. After Thabane’s speech a man came over to the table where my co-fellow and I were sitting and vigorously shook our hands, grinning broadly. “Tell America!” he said. “Tell the word! Everything has been so smooth and peaceful. We wanted a change – it’s like Obama. Because he is a black man we were afraid that…” (He just shook his head.) Then smiling he spread his arms wide and said, “We are so proud of our country! Tell America that Lesotho is helping the world!”

The reference to Obama was far from the only one I’d heard made in reference to politics here. I don’t think it has much of anything to do with Obama’s actual policies, but seeing Obama as leader of the free world is still hugely influential here, and clearly the message of hope and change that he campaigned on in 2008 resonated deeply here.

In any case, Lesotho certainly has reason to be proud of itself. Carrying out a free and fair election and facilitating a smooth transition of power is no small thing in Africa. I’ve read a couple news stories saying that if Lesotho keeps this up it will become the new standard for peaceful democracy in Africa, and I have to agree. That’s not to say there’s not room for improvement – it would be good to have an election that focused more on issues than parties and political personalities, but healthy democracies take time to develop, and Lesotho is certainly moving in the right direction.

Back at St. Rodrigue, the semester ended, students took their finals, and many people left (including my co-fellow). I’ve stayed for a few weeks to teach winter classes (extra classes for Cs and Es, who will take the Cambridge exams in the spring). I’ll talk more about that in my next post, coming soon*!

*See beginning paragraph about time warps

Stray thoughts:

• Winter has definitely arrived. The mountains are snow-capped now and the sight of them stunned me all over again. They’re especially pretty at sunset, when they reflect the pinks and purples in the fading light.
• My co-fellow’s cousin brought us birdies, so badminton has now come to St. Rodrigue! I’m hoping to teach some students how to play soon.
• It was tough to say good-bye to my co-fellow when I dropped her off at the airport. She’s been my constant companion these last few months & it felt very strange going back to St. Rodrigue without her. I’m on my own for awhile now – new co-fellow comes at the end of July!