Been a while...
I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update! My computer died and it has therefore been damned near impossible to get access to anyone's computer long enough to update my blog! I have so much to tell you about...from Lepokole to the Okavango Delta...but for now let me update you on what has been going on recently with a couple blog posts that i've had saved up:
(I'll update as much as I can i promise from here on out)...
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Birthday Shenanegans...
The day started like any other, with the puppy crying at 5am and the pigeons outside my window cooing to the sunrise. I peeled open my curtains and was excited to find that it was actually cloudy outside, and a wind was howling through the cracks in my window. I was supposed to go into the clinic at the usual time, 7:30 am, but decided, “Today is my birthday, and I can be tardy if I want to…” I pulled the covers over my ears and clicked on a movie. Honestly, I was dreading this day. My first birthday in Botswana, thousands of miles from home, and I had no real plans for the day either (with hopes to celebrate the following week).
The day started like any other, with the puppy crying at 5am and the pigeons outside my window cooing to the sunrise. I peeled open my curtains and was excited to find that it was actually cloudy outside, and a wind was howling through the cracks in my window. I was supposed to go into the clinic at the usual time, 7:30 am, but decided, “Today is my birthday, and I can be tardy if I want to…” I pulled the covers over my ears and clicked on a movie. Honestly, I was dreading this day. My first birthday in Botswana, thousands of miles from home, and I had no real plans for the day either (with hopes to celebrate the following week).
Around 8 o’clock, I decided I had spent
enough time in my dark bedroom and got up, got dressed, and set off to the
clinic with Cleo in hand. It truly was
just like any other day; everyone greeted me with energetic smiles and inquired
about my new puppy. I walked into the clinic and started working on tedious
tasks. At around 10, the ambulance came
and I hitched a ride to my shopping village of Bobonong. I walked from the hospital to Leia’s house
and sat with her and discussed our plans for the next few event-packed weeks. I then walked into town, bought a few things,
and excitedly got a free ride back to Gobojango. I unloaded my things at my
house and took off for the Junior Secondary School.
Once I arrived, 15 minutes late and
dripping in sweat, the students approached me saying that the teacher was not
around but that they wanted to show me something. They took all of my things,
told me to close my eyes, and lead me by the hand into a classroom. When I opened my eyes, there was a table
covered in flower petals and rows of students lined up singing me happy
birthday. After they finished the
birthday song, they asked me to sit and then took turns telling me why they are
grateful for me in their lives.
“Your involvement with the JAB club has
been monumental. I don’t know what other
word to call you but our hero; you have inspired us and influenced us to be
positive role models and for that, we thank you!”
“What can I say, Kitso? We love you big
time!”
“Thank you so much for being a part of our
lives, we are so fortunate to have you here, and we hope you enjoy your
birthday”…
It was so sincere, I literally started
tearing up. Then, when the students
asked me to speak, I was at a loss for words, “thank you so much for this
beautiful surprise. I am so far away from home and…” that was all I could say
before my voice cracked and the words choked out of my mouth. Everyone
applauded as if I had given a legendary speech and then asked to take turns
taking pictures with me. From that point on, the entire day took a turn for the
better.
As I walked home with a handful of
students, TJ Castro called me from the US to send me birthday wishes. Then my mom called and surprised me even
further by offering to buy my ticket home in August.
((Not only did her and my dad offer to buy
my ticket home for Tasha’s wedding, but they also gave me an opportunity to use
my hard earned savings for travel while in Southern Africa. I’m currently beginning to plan a trip to
Mozambique to celebrate!))
Anyway, as I walked from the general store
to my house, I stopped by one of the primary school teacher’s home where a
handful of the teachers were relaxing.
After they discovered it was my birthday, they proceeded to begin
dancing and singing for me. I was
surprised to find that one of them has been trained in classical opera, and the
others are tremendously musically talented! We decided to create a band and
they drove me home.
Though I didn’t
particularly celebrate my birthday on the actual day, I was amusingly surprised
at how much the people around me cared!
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“Mpha thupa” (Give me the stick)
One thing that has severely caught me off guard in this
country has been the widely accepted notion of corporal punishment. The legal
beating of individuals in public by elected officials…
I was first introduced to corporal punishment during my work
with the students in the primary school. Though the majority of the teachers
promised me that they do not punish their students with physical force, I was
flabbergasted one day to walk past a classroom and find one of the 11 year old
boys bent over and getting lashed on the buttocks by a teacher. I was honestly
stunned; I didn’t know how to react. I wanted to yell at the man to stop
hurting the little boy, but I knew it wasn’t my place. I spent days mulling it
over and finally decided to ask my neighbors their thoughts on it.
Jonjo, an astute 12 year old boy, described it to me as so:
“I know I’m doing well if the teacher beats me.
At least that way, I know he cares about my education. If I’m being beaten, I know it’s because I
can do better. It teaches us to become
more responsible children.”
Perhaps it’s because I have been raised in a society where
this has been illegal for years, but I still cannot wrap my head around how
parents can allow their children to be beaten by their teachers. Punishment should be doled out at home, in
my opinion; I do not think that teachers should have the authority to
physically hurt a child.
When I was asked by a friend of mine who is a teacher at the
primary school how teachers punish children in the US, I was surprised to find his
lack of trust in the system. “Kitso, I think physical punishment is much more
effective and kinder than the mental punishment you American children go
through. We do not have to feel
humiliated or miss out on any events because we’ve been bad. We accept our
lashings and move on.” When I tried to explain that detention and suspension
were not necessarily means of mental punishment, he persisted to say, “Those
disciplinary actions make a man soft.”
It’s fascinating working within the parameters of this
society where students are honestly afraid of their teachers. I was working in the computer lab at the
junior secondary school one afternoon when a slew of children came in and started
messing around the lab. I wasn’t sure if
this was warranted until a student handed me a long stick with tape wrapped
around the end of it. When I took it, a
bit confused at what it was, the students fled in fear that I would beat them.
This stick is called the “thupa” (pronounced too-pah) and apparently is what the teachers use
to get their message across.
Now that I’m more aware of it, I’m realizing that the
majority of these teachers who have all promised me that they don’t beat their
students walk around with a thupa.
Furthermore, I have been taken aback at the punishment
methods used at the local court, or kgotla. Before I left on holiday break, a case was
being heard by the elders at the court.
When I left work, I learned that the suspect was found guilty, and his
punishment was 10 lashes by a court-appointed official. These are grown adults that we’re talking
about. Individuals within the society
that sell and buy goods, raise children, and put ties on to go to work. These adults were warranting physical
lashings of a criminal. I learned that once this individual received his
lashings, the charges were dropped and everyone moved on with their lives.
It seems so primordial to me that this punishment is
accepted in such modern society. It almost doesn’t make sense in my mind that I
can sit in a computer room, just a few kilometers from where a grown man is
being spanked with a log for committing a crime. More and more, what I know to
be “globalization” and “growth” is being questioned by living in such a rural
village. There is no way that Botswana
can mimic the models of modernization set forth by countries of the Western
World because its past is so unique. The
tribal conflicts and traditions are so invested in its policies that to facsimile
the United States’ example, for instance, would be obsolete and cause more
problems.
I’ve noticed this to be the case on multiple occasions. Botswana is finding itself in a very
inimitable position. It is a fairly new
country, only gained independence in 1966, and yet it has found itself splashed
in a rapidly developing global environment. The Gobojango Health Post, for
example, has just been declared an Infectious Disease Control Center (which
means that it can dispense Anti-RetroViral drugs to its HIV positive
patients). In doing so, the Ministry of
Health has dumped an increasing amount of technology our way. Unfortunately, what isn’t understood is that
although we have 4 computers and a new patient operating system, many of the
people who work here don’t even know how to turn on a computer. As a result,
there are thousands of dollars and people’s hard work going to waste simply
because step one was bypassed.
Now that I’ve travelled on an entirely new tangent, let me
finish this post by declaring that there are days where I’d really like to take
a thupa to the higher ups in government and slap them into the reality in which
we are living. The limitations set forth
by the traditional and modern conflict cause a whole new set of problems that
people of Botswana are still learning to navigate (myself included!)
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