It's November and it's snowing in Calgary. Christmas is around the corner! We're busy performing, teaching and prepping for our New Year's Eve event. We've called it the Celestial Bodies Costume Ball and it will feature operatic aerial performances... most exciting, though, is that Green Fools will donate $25 from every ticket sold to our Lesotho circus camp.
Which brings me to the topic of this post – cleverly timed to coincide with your holiday gift planning...
Once again we're seeking donations to subsidize our trip. This project is a self-funded initiative and we're going back this year because we can't NOT go. Last year's circus camp was a huge success! And hugely heartwarming.
So, if you're looking for an alternative to traditional gift-giving, consider making a donation. You'll receive a tax receipt and our love and thanks.
Specifics:
Send cheques to Green Fools Theatre
2404 Erlton Rd SW, Calgary AB T2S 2X2
Please mark your cheque with "Lesotho Circus Camp 2008"
Happy Holidays!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Lesotho 2008 - back we go!
S'true... circus camp returns to Lesotho in January 2008! Dean and I will be teaching at the Student Leadership Conference in Pitseng. And like last year, when we first arrive we'll do some school house renovations.
Want to know more? Want to support our endeavours? Stay tuned to my blog for updates!
Want to know more? Want to support our endeavours? Stay tuned to my blog for updates!
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Circus Camp and Show!
Raphoka Primary School - Circus Camp
I left off with two days til show time… and what a busy two days! Have I mentioned that we’re two instructors working with 151 kids? What was I thinking?!
Me’ Penney is our principal helper, and we’ve hijacked two Standard 7 boys to assist us throughout. They have turned out to be fabulous – their English is improving, they are proud to help and they are GOOD at it.
After some deliberation ($$$) we decided to order green t-shirts for all the students. Raphoka is poor and the kids are ragamuffins, especially compared to the other local schools, whose uniforms tend to be um, less holey. Our t-shirt transaction was very satisfactory – we ordered them in Hlotse, paid the deposit and returned three days later to collect them. Very satisfactory indeed.
More on just how fabulous they looked on show day later!
A typical day begins with Standard (grade) 1 and we go class by class til school’s out, and beyond. We’ve abbreviated the one-hour lunch so the kids get as much time with the gack as possible. Our circus zone is mainly under an expansive tree, that is, until about 1pm when we’re left working under the blazing sun. The kids don’t seem to mind – they are impervious to the heat and we remain mystified by the layers of clothing they wear. Unrelated: the shepherd boys wear full-face masks and blankets over their shoulders in the fields… people, it’s 32 degrees out!
We end each day with dancing: we bought two Lesotho music CDs and we crank the volume on the car’s CD player. It’s hilarious – the kids swarm the car and we boogie to the accordion/rap/zydeco-esque tunes. I can pretty much guarantee that none of these kids have electricity let alone access to a stereo.
The students are dedicated and delightful to work with. There is minimal conflict (we don’t count the stick fighting or the girl in Standard 4 who pounds on the back of the boy she climbs in the pyramid… you think he’d learn to flatten out his back!), they share the juggling gear and they help each other out on stilts. And so… we practice!
My ladder:
Hahahahha! Oh dear. Robin, earmuffs! The boys drag it out each day so I can hang the trapeze bar. It’s 15’ long and made of branches. Wood, sure enough, but not in the form we’re accustomed to. The horizontal sticks (AKA steps) are nailed or lashed to the vertical sticks, which themselves are lashed at the halfway mark, else the ladder would be 7’ long! They hold it tight while I climb up and sling the (nice, thick, strong, live) branch off of which we hang.
The pyramids:
We’re proud of our pyramids! (Thanks, Peter and Ninon: visuals are imperative here.) Classes 2, 3 and 4 all do pyramids and despite a shaky (okay, pathetic!) dress rehearsal, they totally pulled through at show time.
The posters:
We made several posters announcing the show and had the artistic students copy them and post them around the village. Mum has a good supply of arts and crafts materials so it was a poster board and marker job all round! Very effective…
Show day:
8:15 am arrival at the school. The curtain fabric was hung, kids hauled benches out for the visiting teachers and we set up backstage. That is, behind the tree and the flashy fabric panels! The Raphoka classes were assigned a hunk of grass to sit on and they were called backstage in groups to prep for their acts. Genius! And also, the “toilet field” I have previously referred to is just another 100 meters away, so we couldn’t venture too far back behind the tree…
The dress was a bit rough, but the kids stayed focused. We made a couple changes to the running order, did some notes (“Don’t cut through centre stage when you run off to the toilet!”), broke for lunch and hoped for our invited audience would show up for the 1:00 pm curtain.
At 12:45 the kids were given their t-shirts. At 12:55 the Help Lesotho contingent arrived in a 4 plus 1 (taxi). At 1:00 pm we were still staring at an empty field but with a couple weeks under our belt here in Africa, were not worried. Pontmain Primary School was suddenly spotted traipsing across the field and as Dean greeted and seated them, our proud Standard 6 and 7 students emerged from their classroom singing. They marched over to the performance area just wailing their well-rehearsed tune, and the effect was astounding. All 151 Raphoka students were glowing in their new green t’s. The show had begun!
Standard 1’s scarf dance had just wrapped when Guardian Angel School arrived. We quickly assembled them in the audience and carried on. In all, we performed for over 500 people! Dean hosted and we dazzled them with trapeze, juggling, diabolo, yo-yo, hacky sac, spinning plates, acrobatics and stilt walking. The teachers were thrilled and proud; the visiting teachers were just plain jealous, and our kids made a mark. As the hundreds of visiting students headed home (smudges of maroon and navy for miles – uniforms are big here) we assembled our circus stars and wrapped up our stay with three cheers. The teachers told us it would be a blue day on Thursday. That’s today, the day we leave. ;(
We’ve left the stilts and the juggling gear for the students at Raphoka along with instructions on how to keep things in working order. Mum will visit them again next week to create an equipment sign out sheet, and it’s our hope the teachers really will incorporate circus practice into their schedules. They sure are keen to… we have to hope the kids will make certain of it!
I left off with two days til show time… and what a busy two days! Have I mentioned that we’re two instructors working with 151 kids? What was I thinking?!
Me’ Penney is our principal helper, and we’ve hijacked two Standard 7 boys to assist us throughout. They have turned out to be fabulous – their English is improving, they are proud to help and they are GOOD at it.
After some deliberation ($$$) we decided to order green t-shirts for all the students. Raphoka is poor and the kids are ragamuffins, especially compared to the other local schools, whose uniforms tend to be um, less holey. Our t-shirt transaction was very satisfactory – we ordered them in Hlotse, paid the deposit and returned three days later to collect them. Very satisfactory indeed.
More on just how fabulous they looked on show day later!
A typical day begins with Standard (grade) 1 and we go class by class til school’s out, and beyond. We’ve abbreviated the one-hour lunch so the kids get as much time with the gack as possible. Our circus zone is mainly under an expansive tree, that is, until about 1pm when we’re left working under the blazing sun. The kids don’t seem to mind – they are impervious to the heat and we remain mystified by the layers of clothing they wear. Unrelated: the shepherd boys wear full-face masks and blankets over their shoulders in the fields… people, it’s 32 degrees out!
We end each day with dancing: we bought two Lesotho music CDs and we crank the volume on the car’s CD player. It’s hilarious – the kids swarm the car and we boogie to the accordion/rap/zydeco-esque tunes. I can pretty much guarantee that none of these kids have electricity let alone access to a stereo.
The students are dedicated and delightful to work with. There is minimal conflict (we don’t count the stick fighting or the girl in Standard 4 who pounds on the back of the boy she climbs in the pyramid… you think he’d learn to flatten out his back!), they share the juggling gear and they help each other out on stilts. And so… we practice!
My ladder:
Hahahahha! Oh dear. Robin, earmuffs! The boys drag it out each day so I can hang the trapeze bar. It’s 15’ long and made of branches. Wood, sure enough, but not in the form we’re accustomed to. The horizontal sticks (AKA steps) are nailed or lashed to the vertical sticks, which themselves are lashed at the halfway mark, else the ladder would be 7’ long! They hold it tight while I climb up and sling the (nice, thick, strong, live) branch off of which we hang.
The pyramids:
We’re proud of our pyramids! (Thanks, Peter and Ninon: visuals are imperative here.) Classes 2, 3 and 4 all do pyramids and despite a shaky (okay, pathetic!) dress rehearsal, they totally pulled through at show time.
The posters:
We made several posters announcing the show and had the artistic students copy them and post them around the village. Mum has a good supply of arts and crafts materials so it was a poster board and marker job all round! Very effective…
Show day:
8:15 am arrival at the school. The curtain fabric was hung, kids hauled benches out for the visiting teachers and we set up backstage. That is, behind the tree and the flashy fabric panels! The Raphoka classes were assigned a hunk of grass to sit on and they were called backstage in groups to prep for their acts. Genius! And also, the “toilet field” I have previously referred to is just another 100 meters away, so we couldn’t venture too far back behind the tree…
The dress was a bit rough, but the kids stayed focused. We made a couple changes to the running order, did some notes (“Don’t cut through centre stage when you run off to the toilet!”), broke for lunch and hoped for our invited audience would show up for the 1:00 pm curtain.
At 12:45 the kids were given their t-shirts. At 12:55 the Help Lesotho contingent arrived in a 4 plus 1 (taxi). At 1:00 pm we were still staring at an empty field but with a couple weeks under our belt here in Africa, were not worried. Pontmain Primary School was suddenly spotted traipsing across the field and as Dean greeted and seated them, our proud Standard 6 and 7 students emerged from their classroom singing. They marched over to the performance area just wailing their well-rehearsed tune, and the effect was astounding. All 151 Raphoka students were glowing in their new green t’s. The show had begun!
Standard 1’s scarf dance had just wrapped when Guardian Angel School arrived. We quickly assembled them in the audience and carried on. In all, we performed for over 500 people! Dean hosted and we dazzled them with trapeze, juggling, diabolo, yo-yo, hacky sac, spinning plates, acrobatics and stilt walking. The teachers were thrilled and proud; the visiting teachers were just plain jealous, and our kids made a mark. As the hundreds of visiting students headed home (smudges of maroon and navy for miles – uniforms are big here) we assembled our circus stars and wrapped up our stay with three cheers. The teachers told us it would be a blue day on Thursday. That’s today, the day we leave. ;(
We’ve left the stilts and the juggling gear for the students at Raphoka along with instructions on how to keep things in working order. Mum will visit them again next week to create an equipment sign out sheet, and it’s our hope the teachers really will incorporate circus practice into their schedules. They sure are keen to… we have to hope the kids will make certain of it!
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Circus Camp in action!
Raphoka Primary School and the Circus Camp
We’re working with kids from Class 1 (we know it as “Grade 1”… they also call it “Standard 1”) through Class 7. The size of class ranges from 12 to 35. We began circus camp on a Tuesday and spent the whole day playing games and getting acquainted with the students. They also needed time to get used to us, as you can imagine. We’re “mahones” (white people) and in the rural areas we’re an anomaly. In fact, we call ourselves White TV ‘cause the kids seem to just love staring at us.
So Day 1 was a hoot and pressure-free. We are working outdoors which is a new consideration for us, as camps are usually held in gymnasiums. The hot sun is tiring! Lunch was provided that day and we’ve since taken to packing our own… it was dry, crumbly papa with cabbage on top, plus a boiled egg. One eats with one’s hands, so we all did, but it’s kinda gross.
Days 2, 3 and 4 went really well, and the kids love their sessions with us. They are extremely well behaved, keen and playful. Having their teachers with us helps, as language is definitely a challenge. The wee ones are skilled mimics (“Good morning!”) but have no English, and though Classes 5-7 should have some grasp of the language, they’ll be hard-pressed to write their Standard 7 exams in English. Raphoka Primary is a bit of an underdog school; very poor and quite rural. The teachers themselves have minimal English, unlike the slightly-more-privileged neighbourhood boarding school staff. At any rate, mimicry is a winning technique that we employ a great deal.
Our days tend to look something like this: we rise at 6:30am or so, and eat and bathe. School starts at 8am (ish) and we take the students in groups by class.
Class 1 plays games, and we’re now rehearsing their scarf dance for the show. They are too young to use any gear, so their involvement in the show will be the dance and a song about Tortoises.
Class 2 does mimicry, two-highs (ZERO hesitation climbing on to my shoulders) and cartwheels.
Class 3 does two styles of pyramids plus cartwheels.
Class 4 is into juggling!
Classes 5-7 are practicing juggling, mask, trapeze and stilts.
We have two days of practice left before the performance. Two other Primary schools in the area have been invited, and we’re hopeful our kids will get a good size audience.
We’re working with kids from Class 1 (we know it as “Grade 1”… they also call it “Standard 1”) through Class 7. The size of class ranges from 12 to 35. We began circus camp on a Tuesday and spent the whole day playing games and getting acquainted with the students. They also needed time to get used to us, as you can imagine. We’re “mahones” (white people) and in the rural areas we’re an anomaly. In fact, we call ourselves White TV ‘cause the kids seem to just love staring at us.
So Day 1 was a hoot and pressure-free. We are working outdoors which is a new consideration for us, as camps are usually held in gymnasiums. The hot sun is tiring! Lunch was provided that day and we’ve since taken to packing our own… it was dry, crumbly papa with cabbage on top, plus a boiled egg. One eats with one’s hands, so we all did, but it’s kinda gross.
Days 2, 3 and 4 went really well, and the kids love their sessions with us. They are extremely well behaved, keen and playful. Having their teachers with us helps, as language is definitely a challenge. The wee ones are skilled mimics (“Good morning!”) but have no English, and though Classes 5-7 should have some grasp of the language, they’ll be hard-pressed to write their Standard 7 exams in English. Raphoka Primary is a bit of an underdog school; very poor and quite rural. The teachers themselves have minimal English, unlike the slightly-more-privileged neighbourhood boarding school staff. At any rate, mimicry is a winning technique that we employ a great deal.
Our days tend to look something like this: we rise at 6:30am or so, and eat and bathe. School starts at 8am (ish) and we take the students in groups by class.
Class 1 plays games, and we’re now rehearsing their scarf dance for the show. They are too young to use any gear, so their involvement in the show will be the dance and a song about Tortoises.
Class 2 does mimicry, two-highs (ZERO hesitation climbing on to my shoulders) and cartwheels.
Class 3 does two styles of pyramids plus cartwheels.
Class 4 is into juggling!
Classes 5-7 are practicing juggling, mask, trapeze and stilts.
We have two days of practice left before the performance. Two other Primary schools in the area have been invited, and we’re hopeful our kids will get a good size audience.
Roadside AIDS test
In North America we have anti-drunk driving Stop Checks, flower sellers and hitchhikers on the side of the road. Here in Lesotho there is an organization that sets up 10’ x 10’ tents at the intersection where you can drop in for an AIDS test. The testers use two different kits (akin to the “Is it blue? We’re having a baby!” tests) to draw blood and provide results on the spot. Which is admirable, as HIV/AIDS education and awareness is crucial to the future of this country. However, I challenge you to picture yourself in a hot vinyl tent surrounded by crazy drivers and the general population. A well-meaning stranger sticks a pin in your finger and moments later you’re wearing a blue rubber bracelet to tell the world YOU know your status. Do they? And so what if you are positive? The testers tell you to test again in three months, as false positives have been known to occur. In a population where 1 in 2 women between the ages of 18 and 24 are HIV-positive, if you’re not, chances are your girlfriend is.
Creature Comforts. Or not.
A word about Creature Comforts
In short, there aren’t any. Now, many of us have camped, trekked or roughed it at some time or another. We shop, make lists, pack and head out for some adventure. Then we return home, shower, shave and go out for a good steak. In Lesotho, except for central areas (ie. “towns”), there is no electricity or running water. The school we’re teaching at has a single outhouse with a lean-to door, which is missing most of its boards. So there is a science in drinking as much as one can to remain hydrated without overdoing the intake, thereby necessitating the use of the biffie. Frankly, it wreaks havoc on the personal plumbing. Oh, and we’re privileged; we can afford toilet paper. The rural schools have a section of land (often a hill) where the kids run to drop their drawers when needed. Boys run to one side and girls to the other. What the adults do remains unclear.
The Driving (and soccer)
Oh
My
God.
I think what’s most different is the construction of the highways and major roads. The grades, curves, bends, hills, rakes… whatever they’re called they are clearly not engineered to the same specs as we’re used to. Never mind that it’s pitch black by 7:30pm, that people walk en masse along the side of the road (no shoulder, no sidewalk, no barrier… sometimes even a dramatic hundred meter drop off) and that motorized vehicles share the asphalt with cow-drawn trailers. School kids enjoy stick fighting on the way home, ladies with babies slung on their backs gather and chat roadside, and public transport abruptly pulls over when a new passenger waves them down. Plus, the scenery is so beautiful it’s distracting in its own right!
All of this on steep blind hills with hairpin turns. Yikes!
Addendum: we’re driving a rented Volkswagon hatchback… seats four comfortably, or three and tons of gear as previously recorded. Not meant for off-roading but boy, have we have put this puppy to the test! Today we were invited to a soccer game and the “road” in to the field was hazardous! Our car was at a 40-degree incline for a stretch. Speaking of inclines, the playing field itself was pitched at about 15 degrees – point of fact, the soccer field was on a hill. Makes for some um, lopsided playing! Oh, and unrelated is the fact that the game started 1.5 hours late. The entire village comes out to support the local team and we even met the chief’s wife.
Electricity
Nope. Early to bed, early to rise. Cooking is done by kerosene, which really stinks up a small rondavel, let me tell you. Outdoors it’s small fires. At night, the Basotho either use their super human night vision, a candle or a kerosene lamp. Or the moonlight, on a clear evening.
Water
Must be fetched. This entails a trip to the mystery source with the wheelbarrow and giant jugs, or a hike down to the river. Containers are carted around atop the women’s heads. We filter or add drops to our drinking water, while twice daily water is brought for washing. Ah yes, washing. I haven’t mastered it yet, but it involves a pail of warmed water, soap and two plastic basins. Something about soaping in one, rinsing in the other. I’ve screwed it up every time. A face cloth would have been handy, and we’ve absconded one of mum’s. When done (and hopefully clean-ish) one takes all the used, soapy water and tosses it somewhere off the beaten path. Voila!
Food
We are staying with a lovely 77-year old woman who adopted a young teenager – a local gal whose home life sucks so she kept dropping in to Me’ Blandina’s to see if she could be of help. Eventually Me’ invited her to stay for good. The official arrangement has us paying rent (Dean and I stay in a concrete block style hut) plus a fee for “services”: preparing our food, doing our wash and bringing us water. That makes us sound a bit lazy, but the systems here are best played along with. The other day, however, our elderly landlady took a fall and has since had her arm put into a cast. So she’s laid up and young Monyaloue (mon-ya-do-eh) is working her tail off. All of this to say that our already limited dinner resources have made for strange meals: brown beans, beets, chakalaka (spicy chutney-like stuff) and bread or crackers.
We’ve mastered breakfast though: warm yoghurt (we’re not food poisoned yet) and granola. Almost like home! And coffee. Which we DID bring from home.
Back to creature comforts… most people here don’t have cars, naturally. They WALK everywhere. It’s not uncommon for a person of any age to walk two to six hours in a day to get somewhere. They’d walk more and travel father I suspect, if it stayed light out longer. Walking trails might include the highway, a field, a dirt path or a “road” – typically a rocky, bumpy, uneven red dirt clearing. You’d think, after all this walking, they’d come home to a nice chair, and have a sit. Nope. Rondavels generally consist of a bed (usually insanely uncomfortable) or beds, a kitchen zone and POSSIBLY a table. Guests get chairs and all the good furniture, while the locals eat on the edge of their bed or while sitting on the floor. In short, they are either standing up, or lying in bed.
Of course, all that of which I write is what we are experiencing first hand. Some Basotho are “well off” and live in houses rather then huts. Some drive, some dress well and some have access to the better things in life. But I haven’t met any of those people.
Garbage
Everywhere. ALL over! Kids are trained, in fact, to chuck their wrappers on the ground. It’s a crying shame… there is no infrastructure to collect and deal with garbage, so it’s burned. The town of Hlotse has a municipal group who’s placed garbage bins street side, but as a rule, they simply don’t exist. The behaviour to “put litter in its place” is unknown, and anyway, there is nowhere to put it. We collect our waste and chuck it out in Hlotse whenever we drive in.
The environment
Here’s a description of where we’re staying in Pitseng: Me’ has status in this community, and she has four huts to prove it. She and Monyaloue live, cook and sleep in one, mum and other guests stay in another, Dean and I are in her second and most recently renovated guest hut (mostly reserved for her daughter), and the fourth hut houses corn. Three of four have thatched roofs and hand-drawn patterns in the mud siding. Our hut, as mentioned, is made with concrete blocks and has a tin roof and an indoor thatch ceiling to dull the sound of rain.
It’s a short walk to the biffie, which needs work, as the tin toilet frame has corroded and one needs to be careful not to pee on one’s own shoes.
Most days the dirt yard is swept using straw hand brooms (this requires the sweeper to bend in half at the waist), and a pretty pattern is styled. Chickens and donkeys roam free, while cows and pigs are usually tethered. Neighbours come and go, and there is an abundance of kids. Religion, politics and HIV/AIDS aside, this country has way too many children, many of whom no longer have parents. An orphan is a single parent child while a double orphan has lost both parents. There is a strong sense of community but for heaven’s sake, the church MUST sanction the use of condoms.
We’ve had beautiful hot sunny weather and cool nights. Rain is needed. When the moon isn’t dominating the night sky the stars are a sight to behold.
Dean is outside at this moment playing with the bats. We like them, as they devour the bugs. Well, HE likes them, and he’s chucking cookie pieces at them, which they swoop down and scoop out of mid-air. I, of course, am safely stowed indoors typing…
Added note
Our internet access is insanely slow and as we are staying in a village, we have been more out of communication than even anticipated. But in general, things are grand and we're very excited about tomorrow's circus performance!
In short, there aren’t any. Now, many of us have camped, trekked or roughed it at some time or another. We shop, make lists, pack and head out for some adventure. Then we return home, shower, shave and go out for a good steak. In Lesotho, except for central areas (ie. “towns”), there is no electricity or running water. The school we’re teaching at has a single outhouse with a lean-to door, which is missing most of its boards. So there is a science in drinking as much as one can to remain hydrated without overdoing the intake, thereby necessitating the use of the biffie. Frankly, it wreaks havoc on the personal plumbing. Oh, and we’re privileged; we can afford toilet paper. The rural schools have a section of land (often a hill) where the kids run to drop their drawers when needed. Boys run to one side and girls to the other. What the adults do remains unclear.
The Driving (and soccer)
Oh
My
God.
I think what’s most different is the construction of the highways and major roads. The grades, curves, bends, hills, rakes… whatever they’re called they are clearly not engineered to the same specs as we’re used to. Never mind that it’s pitch black by 7:30pm, that people walk en masse along the side of the road (no shoulder, no sidewalk, no barrier… sometimes even a dramatic hundred meter drop off) and that motorized vehicles share the asphalt with cow-drawn trailers. School kids enjoy stick fighting on the way home, ladies with babies slung on their backs gather and chat roadside, and public transport abruptly pulls over when a new passenger waves them down. Plus, the scenery is so beautiful it’s distracting in its own right!
All of this on steep blind hills with hairpin turns. Yikes!
Addendum: we’re driving a rented Volkswagon hatchback… seats four comfortably, or three and tons of gear as previously recorded. Not meant for off-roading but boy, have we have put this puppy to the test! Today we were invited to a soccer game and the “road” in to the field was hazardous! Our car was at a 40-degree incline for a stretch. Speaking of inclines, the playing field itself was pitched at about 15 degrees – point of fact, the soccer field was on a hill. Makes for some um, lopsided playing! Oh, and unrelated is the fact that the game started 1.5 hours late. The entire village comes out to support the local team and we even met the chief’s wife.
Electricity
Nope. Early to bed, early to rise. Cooking is done by kerosene, which really stinks up a small rondavel, let me tell you. Outdoors it’s small fires. At night, the Basotho either use their super human night vision, a candle or a kerosene lamp. Or the moonlight, on a clear evening.
Water
Must be fetched. This entails a trip to the mystery source with the wheelbarrow and giant jugs, or a hike down to the river. Containers are carted around atop the women’s heads. We filter or add drops to our drinking water, while twice daily water is brought for washing. Ah yes, washing. I haven’t mastered it yet, but it involves a pail of warmed water, soap and two plastic basins. Something about soaping in one, rinsing in the other. I’ve screwed it up every time. A face cloth would have been handy, and we’ve absconded one of mum’s. When done (and hopefully clean-ish) one takes all the used, soapy water and tosses it somewhere off the beaten path. Voila!
Food
We are staying with a lovely 77-year old woman who adopted a young teenager – a local gal whose home life sucks so she kept dropping in to Me’ Blandina’s to see if she could be of help. Eventually Me’ invited her to stay for good. The official arrangement has us paying rent (Dean and I stay in a concrete block style hut) plus a fee for “services”: preparing our food, doing our wash and bringing us water. That makes us sound a bit lazy, but the systems here are best played along with. The other day, however, our elderly landlady took a fall and has since had her arm put into a cast. So she’s laid up and young Monyaloue (mon-ya-do-eh) is working her tail off. All of this to say that our already limited dinner resources have made for strange meals: brown beans, beets, chakalaka (spicy chutney-like stuff) and bread or crackers.
We’ve mastered breakfast though: warm yoghurt (we’re not food poisoned yet) and granola. Almost like home! And coffee. Which we DID bring from home.
Back to creature comforts… most people here don’t have cars, naturally. They WALK everywhere. It’s not uncommon for a person of any age to walk two to six hours in a day to get somewhere. They’d walk more and travel father I suspect, if it stayed light out longer. Walking trails might include the highway, a field, a dirt path or a “road” – typically a rocky, bumpy, uneven red dirt clearing. You’d think, after all this walking, they’d come home to a nice chair, and have a sit. Nope. Rondavels generally consist of a bed (usually insanely uncomfortable) or beds, a kitchen zone and POSSIBLY a table. Guests get chairs and all the good furniture, while the locals eat on the edge of their bed or while sitting on the floor. In short, they are either standing up, or lying in bed.
Of course, all that of which I write is what we are experiencing first hand. Some Basotho are “well off” and live in houses rather then huts. Some drive, some dress well and some have access to the better things in life. But I haven’t met any of those people.
Garbage
Everywhere. ALL over! Kids are trained, in fact, to chuck their wrappers on the ground. It’s a crying shame… there is no infrastructure to collect and deal with garbage, so it’s burned. The town of Hlotse has a municipal group who’s placed garbage bins street side, but as a rule, they simply don’t exist. The behaviour to “put litter in its place” is unknown, and anyway, there is nowhere to put it. We collect our waste and chuck it out in Hlotse whenever we drive in.
The environment
Here’s a description of where we’re staying in Pitseng: Me’ has status in this community, and she has four huts to prove it. She and Monyaloue live, cook and sleep in one, mum and other guests stay in another, Dean and I are in her second and most recently renovated guest hut (mostly reserved for her daughter), and the fourth hut houses corn. Three of four have thatched roofs and hand-drawn patterns in the mud siding. Our hut, as mentioned, is made with concrete blocks and has a tin roof and an indoor thatch ceiling to dull the sound of rain.
It’s a short walk to the biffie, which needs work, as the tin toilet frame has corroded and one needs to be careful not to pee on one’s own shoes.
Most days the dirt yard is swept using straw hand brooms (this requires the sweeper to bend in half at the waist), and a pretty pattern is styled. Chickens and donkeys roam free, while cows and pigs are usually tethered. Neighbours come and go, and there is an abundance of kids. Religion, politics and HIV/AIDS aside, this country has way too many children, many of whom no longer have parents. An orphan is a single parent child while a double orphan has lost both parents. There is a strong sense of community but for heaven’s sake, the church MUST sanction the use of condoms.
We’ve had beautiful hot sunny weather and cool nights. Rain is needed. When the moon isn’t dominating the night sky the stars are a sight to behold.
Dean is outside at this moment playing with the bats. We like them, as they devour the bugs. Well, HE likes them, and he’s chucking cookie pieces at them, which they swoop down and scoop out of mid-air. I, of course, am safely stowed indoors typing…
Added note
Our internet access is insanely slow and as we are staying in a village, we have been more out of communication than even anticipated. But in general, things are grand and we're very excited about tomorrow's circus performance!
Monday, March 12, 2007
Brother Stew
Stew’s surprise trip to Lesotho is a good story: in December he won the Reebok staff party talent contest and was awarded a $1,500 travel voucher. Mum and I had constructed him a fabulous costume so he could perform the Dolly Parton/Kenny Rogers duet “Islands in the Stream”. Naturally he was half Dolly and half Kenny, and by all accounts, rocked the house. So, prize money in hand, he coordinated a flight to Jo’burg and met Dean and me there. Together we drove south to Hlotse, Lesotho. Stew has since returned home and it’s rumoured that he slept for two days straight.
In the absence of a blog of his own, Stew wrote the following:
Stew… the greatest brother ever… four days of travel for four days in Lesotho… the sacrifices this hero makes for the children… He is a true inspiration and wonder I aspire to be like. God bless you Stew!!!!
(Taken verbatim; note the mediocre sentence structure. Ha ha!)
Anyway, it was a short stay, but we packed a great deal in, and I’d like to add that not only did Reebok donate $750, they also provided a swack of shoes (which have since been distributed to orphan students at Raphoka Primary School along with the New Balance shoes.) Stew’s colleagues also contributed an outstanding (approximate) total of $1,500. Thanks to all of them for their generosity!
In the absence of a blog of his own, Stew wrote the following:
Stew… the greatest brother ever… four days of travel for four days in Lesotho… the sacrifices this hero makes for the children… He is a true inspiration and wonder I aspire to be like. God bless you Stew!!!!
(Taken verbatim; note the mediocre sentence structure. Ha ha!)
Anyway, it was a short stay, but we packed a great deal in, and I’d like to add that not only did Reebok donate $750, they also provided a swack of shoes (which have since been distributed to orphan students at Raphoka Primary School along with the New Balance shoes.) Stew’s colleagues also contributed an outstanding (approximate) total of $1,500. Thanks to all of them for their generosity!
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Notes from Lesotho - Day 4
Day 4 (or whatever… no clock, no calendar)
We rose at 6am to prepare for our 7am departure. Ha ha! First our lovely hosts (the hardest working teachers you’ll ever see) boiled water so we could wash, then they prepared breakfast and tea. We left eventually, clean and full.
The trail was hazardous for a while until the sun dried out the mud. We hopped on and off the horses whenever the trail boys deemed it necessary. When we at last hit the “road” toward the end of the journey, we visited the general store and bought warm Cokes for our guides.
And so, Bokoko Primary School has been renovated, we’ve experienced a trek of a lifetime, we’ve survived being dirty and dehydrated, and circus camp starts on Tuesday.
Dean is stringing the diabolos and I must now prep the trapeze bar.
We rose at 6am to prepare for our 7am departure. Ha ha! First our lovely hosts (the hardest working teachers you’ll ever see) boiled water so we could wash, then they prepared breakfast and tea. We left eventually, clean and full.
The trail was hazardous for a while until the sun dried out the mud. We hopped on and off the horses whenever the trail boys deemed it necessary. When we at last hit the “road” toward the end of the journey, we visited the general store and bought warm Cokes for our guides.
And so, Bokoko Primary School has been renovated, we’ve experienced a trek of a lifetime, we’ve survived being dirty and dehydrated, and circus camp starts on Tuesday.
Dean is stringing the diabolos and I must now prep the trapeze bar.
Notes from Lesotho - Day 3+
Day 2.5 and 3 onward
What a difference a day makes!
First, the transport. Our truck was (over)loaded with school benches, cement and miscellaneous materials, plus our backpacks, and it set off. We took “public”, the Lesotho equivalent of say, the TTC, which is an experience unto itself. One waits at a specific location (“bus stop”) with approximately a bazillion other people, most of whom are carrying the contents of their house. A van materializes, and if you’re lucky, it’s in one piece and there is no visible duct tape keeping it together. A ticket is purchased and in the smothering heat everyone piles in. The vans seat 15 people. Ha ha! Seats 15 – they’ll cram in as many as possible.
Brother Stew is 6’5”, and we instantly recognized that, well, he wouldn’t fit in the van. We bought him two tickets so he could secure the two front seats next to the driver. The cost is about $4.50 per person for the leg we traveled: two hours.
The fella next to me had a huge bag of groceries on his lap. At least, I thought it was groceries until he cracked open the booze… he drank beer and rum & cokes the entire ride. Behind me the three people on the back bench were forced to share the weight of a kitchen shelf, a plastic water jug and various bags of stuff.
The scenery is almost indescribable, but here it goes: breathtaking. Better than you can imagine. We drove way into the mountains and the vista was spectacular. Even our terrific photos don’t do it justice, so I won’t go on and on. I’ve seen a lot of scenery in recent years, and this place takes the cake.
The roads are so steep that we decided that they probably weren’t engineered and would not be allowable inclines in North America. Still, VERY pretty!
Zip ahead to our arrival in Mahkelefane, a small mountain village and our first destination. We were greeted by the school principal who is larger than life – she’s amazing. A dozen shy smiles encircled us and within four minutes Dean had a captive audience for his first performance. The shrieks! They loved it.
We were fed and then shown to our rondavel (mud hut) where we all hunkered down for bed. It was dark and the day had come to an end. It was 7:30pm! I should mention that we are now so deep into the mountains that there is no power, running water or creature comforts to speak of. The biffie (outhouse) is next to the pig pen.
The next morning we rose with the sun and visited the school after breakfast. Two hundred eager kids swarmed us for high fives and handshakes. They are provided with porridge for breakfast and as they came by in groups Dean juggled for them. We took photos, waved a great deal and generally felt overwhelmed by the poor condition of the kid’s school uniforms.
We waited for the Bokoko villagers to meet us with the donkeys so we could continue our journey into the hills. They were quite late, which we have since forgiven having hiked the route ourselves. In pairs and small groups they dribbled in and with them came three horses. Yeehaw! The gack was loaded onto donkeys and tops of heads and we headed off on foot and horseback. I opted for horseback, which was absolutely the most fun!
The trail is outstanding, difficult, beautiful and long. 3.5 hours long, but I can’t complain, as my horse was delightful. The sun scorched us, the rain battered us and the trail occasionally thinned out to nothing more than a skinny dirt path at the edge of a cliff.
We thought the drive up the mountain road was awesome – THIS journey was beyond words. Vast green mountain ranges, rocky rivers, wild flowers and pure beauty.
They call Lesotho the Kingdom in the Sky and we now know why.
For those on foot it was an arduous journey and for the princess on horseback it was outstanding. To my Ranch friends: my autumn trail ride provided me with an unreasonable amount of confidence and you’d be SO jealous of this trail! I (okay, my horse) clomped up and down extraordinary inclines, through rocky riverbeds, and along mud soaked trails. Yikes, it’s scary when a horse slips…
We arrived in Bokoko exhausted and weary. A bit wet and sunburned, too. No water, no toilet, no power. The lifestyle dates back 200 years.
Seventy-five school kids greeted us and immediately launched into song. It was wonderful!
Practically speaking we were a team of five with a day and a half to renovate a small schoolhouse (er… mud hut) so we immediately set to work painting the interior bright white. By the end of the second day we had tarred the leaky roof, installed glass paned windows (previously they’d had open window holes and sat on the floor all day – this in a climate of fierce heat, rain and snow), painted the door and windows blue, painted and mounted two chalk boards to the wall and installed the benches. Plus, each kid received a Lesotho-sewn schoolbag and lapboard.
What’s most interesting to remember is that every single tool and material was trekked in, either by donkey, atop a woman’s head or in the hands of a schoolboy.
We were well fed with fresh (yup! Squawk, squawk, silence… THAT fresh) chicken, rice, beets, chard and carrot slaw. The biffie was a frightful experience though. A tippy tin shack with a dangerous toilet seat opening perched on the edge of a cliff. Stew literally did not fit inside. Now THAT’S funny.
The kids celebrated their new schoolroom with more songs and some hillside games. Note to self: if we do this kind of project again, we MUST bring new underwear for all the kids. If was heartbreaking to teach the girls handstands and have their tunics flip upside down to reveal holey underpants. Not that they care; they have an incredible spirit and love to laugh.
The gorgeous sunny day turned to spectacular thunderstorms, which did not bode well for the return journey. Ah well… off to bed.
What a difference a day makes!
First, the transport. Our truck was (over)loaded with school benches, cement and miscellaneous materials, plus our backpacks, and it set off. We took “public”, the Lesotho equivalent of say, the TTC, which is an experience unto itself. One waits at a specific location (“bus stop”) with approximately a bazillion other people, most of whom are carrying the contents of their house. A van materializes, and if you’re lucky, it’s in one piece and there is no visible duct tape keeping it together. A ticket is purchased and in the smothering heat everyone piles in. The vans seat 15 people. Ha ha! Seats 15 – they’ll cram in as many as possible.
Brother Stew is 6’5”, and we instantly recognized that, well, he wouldn’t fit in the van. We bought him two tickets so he could secure the two front seats next to the driver. The cost is about $4.50 per person for the leg we traveled: two hours.
The fella next to me had a huge bag of groceries on his lap. At least, I thought it was groceries until he cracked open the booze… he drank beer and rum & cokes the entire ride. Behind me the three people on the back bench were forced to share the weight of a kitchen shelf, a plastic water jug and various bags of stuff.
The scenery is almost indescribable, but here it goes: breathtaking. Better than you can imagine. We drove way into the mountains and the vista was spectacular. Even our terrific photos don’t do it justice, so I won’t go on and on. I’ve seen a lot of scenery in recent years, and this place takes the cake.
The roads are so steep that we decided that they probably weren’t engineered and would not be allowable inclines in North America. Still, VERY pretty!
Zip ahead to our arrival in Mahkelefane, a small mountain village and our first destination. We were greeted by the school principal who is larger than life – she’s amazing. A dozen shy smiles encircled us and within four minutes Dean had a captive audience for his first performance. The shrieks! They loved it.
We were fed and then shown to our rondavel (mud hut) where we all hunkered down for bed. It was dark and the day had come to an end. It was 7:30pm! I should mention that we are now so deep into the mountains that there is no power, running water or creature comforts to speak of. The biffie (outhouse) is next to the pig pen.
The next morning we rose with the sun and visited the school after breakfast. Two hundred eager kids swarmed us for high fives and handshakes. They are provided with porridge for breakfast and as they came by in groups Dean juggled for them. We took photos, waved a great deal and generally felt overwhelmed by the poor condition of the kid’s school uniforms.
We waited for the Bokoko villagers to meet us with the donkeys so we could continue our journey into the hills. They were quite late, which we have since forgiven having hiked the route ourselves. In pairs and small groups they dribbled in and with them came three horses. Yeehaw! The gack was loaded onto donkeys and tops of heads and we headed off on foot and horseback. I opted for horseback, which was absolutely the most fun!
The trail is outstanding, difficult, beautiful and long. 3.5 hours long, but I can’t complain, as my horse was delightful. The sun scorched us, the rain battered us and the trail occasionally thinned out to nothing more than a skinny dirt path at the edge of a cliff.
We thought the drive up the mountain road was awesome – THIS journey was beyond words. Vast green mountain ranges, rocky rivers, wild flowers and pure beauty.
They call Lesotho the Kingdom in the Sky and we now know why.
For those on foot it was an arduous journey and for the princess on horseback it was outstanding. To my Ranch friends: my autumn trail ride provided me with an unreasonable amount of confidence and you’d be SO jealous of this trail! I (okay, my horse) clomped up and down extraordinary inclines, through rocky riverbeds, and along mud soaked trails. Yikes, it’s scary when a horse slips…
We arrived in Bokoko exhausted and weary. A bit wet and sunburned, too. No water, no toilet, no power. The lifestyle dates back 200 years.
Seventy-five school kids greeted us and immediately launched into song. It was wonderful!
Practically speaking we were a team of five with a day and a half to renovate a small schoolhouse (er… mud hut) so we immediately set to work painting the interior bright white. By the end of the second day we had tarred the leaky roof, installed glass paned windows (previously they’d had open window holes and sat on the floor all day – this in a climate of fierce heat, rain and snow), painted the door and windows blue, painted and mounted two chalk boards to the wall and installed the benches. Plus, each kid received a Lesotho-sewn schoolbag and lapboard.
What’s most interesting to remember is that every single tool and material was trekked in, either by donkey, atop a woman’s head or in the hands of a schoolboy.
We were well fed with fresh (yup! Squawk, squawk, silence… THAT fresh) chicken, rice, beets, chard and carrot slaw. The biffie was a frightful experience though. A tippy tin shack with a dangerous toilet seat opening perched on the edge of a cliff. Stew literally did not fit inside. Now THAT’S funny.
The kids celebrated their new schoolroom with more songs and some hillside games. Note to self: if we do this kind of project again, we MUST bring new underwear for all the kids. If was heartbreaking to teach the girls handstands and have their tunics flip upside down to reveal holey underpants. Not that they care; they have an incredible spirit and love to laugh.
The gorgeous sunny day turned to spectacular thunderstorms, which did not bode well for the return journey. Ah well… off to bed.
Notes from Lesotho - Day 2
Day 2
We woke up early to a symphony of birds and insects, refreshed! Breakfast was quite civilized compared to what we’re in for: cereal and toast with peanut butter, plus coffee.
Mum and Dean headed down the hill to scope out the wood for stilts, mainly to ensure that it is sturdy enough and not too knotty. Check! Stew slept in and I packed for Bokoko (that is, unpacked, as it’s a three hour hike up the mountain so we’re traveling light). The truck we ordered hasn’t arrived but we’re on TIA (This Is Africa) time, so we’re stringing clown noses and teaching our helper to spin plates while we wait.
Today’s plan is to load the truck with all the Bokoko school reno materials (12 school benches, blackboards, paint, windows, cement and tar for the roof), some circus stuff for a wee show and our backpacks. We’ll ride as far as the roads allow (in the truck bed I may add) then hike and haul the gack on donkeys. Turns out the truck will make two trips as the bed is too small for all the benches, stuff and people in one go. The drive, I am told, is about 3.5 hours. Yikes.
We’ll be housed and fed by the locals while we work on the school. We’re not too sure what that actually means, so I’ll report on those details in later days.
It is sunny and hot; such a contrast to the weather we left. It’s dry though – rain is badly needed for the veggie gardens and water catchers.
We woke up early to a symphony of birds and insects, refreshed! Breakfast was quite civilized compared to what we’re in for: cereal and toast with peanut butter, plus coffee.
Mum and Dean headed down the hill to scope out the wood for stilts, mainly to ensure that it is sturdy enough and not too knotty. Check! Stew slept in and I packed for Bokoko (that is, unpacked, as it’s a three hour hike up the mountain so we’re traveling light). The truck we ordered hasn’t arrived but we’re on TIA (This Is Africa) time, so we’re stringing clown noses and teaching our helper to spin plates while we wait.
Today’s plan is to load the truck with all the Bokoko school reno materials (12 school benches, blackboards, paint, windows, cement and tar for the roof), some circus stuff for a wee show and our backpacks. We’ll ride as far as the roads allow (in the truck bed I may add) then hike and haul the gack on donkeys. Turns out the truck will make two trips as the bed is too small for all the benches, stuff and people in one go. The drive, I am told, is about 3.5 hours. Yikes.
We’ll be housed and fed by the locals while we work on the school. We’re not too sure what that actually means, so I’ll report on those details in later days.
It is sunny and hot; such a contrast to the weather we left. It’s dry though – rain is badly needed for the veggie gardens and water catchers.
Notes from Lesotho - Day 1
Day 1
Toronto – Frankfurt, Frankfurt – Johannesburg, Jo’burg – Hlotse. Our layover in Frankfurt was long, and as both flights were overnight, we booked a hotel room for the day and snoozed. Smart! Best $80 we’ve ever spent. The Lufthansa airline food left much to be desired. Okay, it was gross!
The last leg was in a rental car which, not unlike a clown car, was crammed so full we turned heads. Did I mention the three massive hockey bags full of gear and shows, and three personal bags? Our electric blue car is a hatchback so with one seat flopped down, Stew folded into the front seat, me crammed into the back, and Dean in the right side driver’s seat we set off.
The drive south to Lesotho was rather like the Prairies – flat, and fairly dull in the scheme of things, though we did spot three ostriches. As we approached the border the mountains appeared and the terrain changed completely. It’s rocky with red soil, and beautiful.
The border crossing was a breeze and our first real challenge of the day was interpreting mum’s directions to the guesthouse. Oh – that, and not killing anyone. Once in town, the streets are fair game for man, child and animal, plus engine-free vehicles, goods for sale, chunks of rock and pot holes the size of a mule.
Mum had assumed we’d cross at a different border so once we worked out how to reverse her specific guidelines (“Turn right when you see the Shoprite sign on your left. Pull into the convent/driving school driveway and park near the tree.”) We finally located the bumpy dirt path leading into the convent, driving school and guesthouse, our home for the night.
Our big surprise, that is, the arrival of brother Stew, elicited the desired response. Mum’s head popped off and I have the photos to prove it.
Our dinner consisted of baked potatoes and grated cheese, plus peaches and yogurt. Odd. Hysterical actually, especially since we were all overtired and giddy. We spent the evening unpacking, counting and pairing the donated running shoes (with footwear from Reebok and New Balance, our outstanding grand total is 66) and mum planned for their distribution.
Toronto – Frankfurt, Frankfurt – Johannesburg, Jo’burg – Hlotse. Our layover in Frankfurt was long, and as both flights were overnight, we booked a hotel room for the day and snoozed. Smart! Best $80 we’ve ever spent. The Lufthansa airline food left much to be desired. Okay, it was gross!
The last leg was in a rental car which, not unlike a clown car, was crammed so full we turned heads. Did I mention the three massive hockey bags full of gear and shows, and three personal bags? Our electric blue car is a hatchback so with one seat flopped down, Stew folded into the front seat, me crammed into the back, and Dean in the right side driver’s seat we set off.
The drive south to Lesotho was rather like the Prairies – flat, and fairly dull in the scheme of things, though we did spot three ostriches. As we approached the border the mountains appeared and the terrain changed completely. It’s rocky with red soil, and beautiful.
The border crossing was a breeze and our first real challenge of the day was interpreting mum’s directions to the guesthouse. Oh – that, and not killing anyone. Once in town, the streets are fair game for man, child and animal, plus engine-free vehicles, goods for sale, chunks of rock and pot holes the size of a mule.
Mum had assumed we’d cross at a different border so once we worked out how to reverse her specific guidelines (“Turn right when you see the Shoprite sign on your left. Pull into the convent/driving school driveway and park near the tree.”) We finally located the bumpy dirt path leading into the convent, driving school and guesthouse, our home for the night.
Our big surprise, that is, the arrival of brother Stew, elicited the desired response. Mum’s head popped off and I have the photos to prove it.
Our dinner consisted of baked potatoes and grated cheese, plus peaches and yogurt. Odd. Hysterical actually, especially since we were all overtired and giddy. We spent the evening unpacking, counting and pairing the donated running shoes (with footwear from Reebok and New Balance, our outstanding grand total is 66) and mum planned for their distribution.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Departure day
12 minutes til the day we depart. Leaving us 15 hours to sleep, pack and pick up one or two more things before we head to the airport. Where I suspect we may be told our bags are too heavy and too full of weird stuff.
It IS kinda funny. A Toronto Star photographer came to Barb and Cam's house today (Lesotho Circus Camp headquarters, unfortunately for them) and we set up some gack for the shot. Clown hats, juggling gear, clown noses, a box of shoes... pretty colourful stuff. Keep your eyes peeled for a story in the Star, set to appear March 5.
Picked up the trapeze bar today. I made a new one with a hollow steel pipe so it'll be less weight in the luggage. Bought a swack of power bars, $100 in first aid supplies and more water purifying tablets.
Then I zipped over to the opera for the final performance of "Faust". Such fun! [side bar: Thanks to Bink and the COC folks for a great run. 'Til next time!]
And finally, I sit and type while recuperating from the Last Supper: hearty Italian. Richer and more caloric than any soul needs, and it's not that I was hungry for the molten chocolate cake, but what idiot would refuse such chocolatey goodness? And anyway, Dean and I shared it.
It IS kinda funny. A Toronto Star photographer came to Barb and Cam's house today (Lesotho Circus Camp headquarters, unfortunately for them) and we set up some gack for the shot. Clown hats, juggling gear, clown noses, a box of shoes... pretty colourful stuff. Keep your eyes peeled for a story in the Star, set to appear March 5.
Picked up the trapeze bar today. I made a new one with a hollow steel pipe so it'll be less weight in the luggage. Bought a swack of power bars, $100 in first aid supplies and more water purifying tablets.
Then I zipped over to the opera for the final performance of "Faust". Such fun! [side bar: Thanks to Bink and the COC folks for a great run. 'Til next time!]
And finally, I sit and type while recuperating from the Last Supper: hearty Italian. Richer and more caloric than any soul needs, and it's not that I was hungry for the molten chocolate cake, but what idiot would refuse such chocolatey goodness? And anyway, Dean and I shared it.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Six days 'til we go! About the lists...
You'd think the TO DO list would be getting shorter, but alas it is growing at a rate disproportionate to the number of days left.
And there's a hefty list of things to do for the projects we'll be working on when we get back! Crickey. Thank goodness CSI is on TV at all times. It's a happy backdrop to my late night laptop-on-the-couch work sessions.
Dean is busy making masks and lengthy pharmaceutical product lists, plus researching what route we'll take in the rental car from Jo-burg to Lesotho. He was clever enough to get an international driver's license. That puts me on map duty. Ha ha ha! Good one.
I am sewing clown hats, finishing up a couple summer work proposals, writing and rewriting lists, having an aerial rig built for our Northern Manitoba camp in March, having a trapeze bar built for Lesotho, reconciling our trip budget and generally just writing lists.
I have two more Canadian Opera Co. performances and Dean arrives in Toronto Thursday night. We'll spend Friday packing and reviewing our splendid lists, and some of Saturday repacking and doubling checking said lists. We'll eat a great deal both nights in anticipation of mediocre airplane food and three-plus weeks of a protein deficient diet.
But we're SO excited and it'll be good fer da kidz!
And there's a hefty list of things to do for the projects we'll be working on when we get back! Crickey. Thank goodness CSI is on TV at all times. It's a happy backdrop to my late night laptop-on-the-couch work sessions.
Dean is busy making masks and lengthy pharmaceutical product lists, plus researching what route we'll take in the rental car from Jo-burg to Lesotho. He was clever enough to get an international driver's license. That puts me on map duty. Ha ha ha! Good one.
I am sewing clown hats, finishing up a couple summer work proposals, writing and rewriting lists, having an aerial rig built for our Northern Manitoba camp in March, having a trapeze bar built for Lesotho, reconciling our trip budget and generally just writing lists.
I have two more Canadian Opera Co. performances and Dean arrives in Toronto Thursday night. We'll spend Friday packing and reviewing our splendid lists, and some of Saturday repacking and doubling checking said lists. We'll eat a great deal both nights in anticipation of mediocre airplane food and three-plus weeks of a protein deficient diet.
But we're SO excited and it'll be good fer da kidz!
Monday, February 12, 2007
Wish to donate?
It's not too late. Donations of any size can be mailed to:
Green Fools Theatre
103-1215 13th Street SE
Calgary AB T2G 3J4
403-237-9010 | 403-266-1508 fax
Please include your mailing address and jot "Lesotho Circus Camp" on the notes line.
THANK YOU!
Green Fools Theatre
103-1215 13th Street SE
Calgary AB T2G 3J4
403-237-9010 | 403-266-1508 fax
Please include your mailing address and jot "Lesotho Circus Camp" on the notes line.
THANK YOU!
To begin: THANK YOU!
Dean and I depart February 25, 2007, and between then and now I hope to get this blog up to speed. And so, our thanks to:
– Our friends and family, for donations, support, enthusiasm and... donations.
– Reebok Canada via brother Stew, for two giant goalie bags.
Some stuff we're packing in said bags:
– Shoes (many!) from New Balance. Thank you Jonathan!
– Juggling gear from Higgins Brothers. Don has entrusted me with his Gumby figure which I will dutifully pack, photograph in Africa, and return. Weird, but he gave us lots of free stuff for the kids, so I'll go with it.
– Yo-yos from the Silly People. AND they performed at our fundraising cabaret to boot.
– Clown noses and balloons from Xtine. Did the kids ever look cute!
– All the artists who performed and the folks who attended the aforementioned cabaret. We raised $1,200 and had a great time doing so.
– My mum Penney, for planting the seed a year ago. And then watering it, fertilizing it and transplanting the wee shoot to a larger pot. She's in Lesotho now for the second time. Blooming, I may add.
– Barb and Cameron, for housing me, Dean and mounds of stuff prior to our departure. Plus Barb loaned me her car, and is just a really good best friend.
– Judith and Isabel at Green Fools Theatre. For helping with grant applications, cheering us on and sending you all your tax receipts.
– Regan for sharing her sewing machine and lunches with the boys. Fun AND productive!
– Ian Howarth for writing a story for the Toronto Star. Next stop: Oprah! Ha- anyone have a contact there?!
– Help Lesotho, an organization which exists to make a difference. www.helplesotho.com
I suspect we'll have a few more, which is fine – because I now know how to edit my posts!
– Our friends and family, for donations, support, enthusiasm and... donations.
– Reebok Canada via brother Stew, for two giant goalie bags.
Some stuff we're packing in said bags:
– Shoes (many!) from New Balance. Thank you Jonathan!
– Juggling gear from Higgins Brothers. Don has entrusted me with his Gumby figure which I will dutifully pack, photograph in Africa, and return. Weird, but he gave us lots of free stuff for the kids, so I'll go with it.
– Yo-yos from the Silly People. AND they performed at our fundraising cabaret to boot.
– Clown noses and balloons from Xtine. Did the kids ever look cute!
– All the artists who performed and the folks who attended the aforementioned cabaret. We raised $1,200 and had a great time doing so.
– My mum Penney, for planting the seed a year ago. And then watering it, fertilizing it and transplanting the wee shoot to a larger pot. She's in Lesotho now for the second time. Blooming, I may add.
– Barb and Cameron, for housing me, Dean and mounds of stuff prior to our departure. Plus Barb loaned me her car, and is just a really good best friend.
– Judith and Isabel at Green Fools Theatre. For helping with grant applications, cheering us on and sending you all your tax receipts.
– Regan for sharing her sewing machine and lunches with the boys. Fun AND productive!
– Ian Howarth for writing a story for the Toronto Star. Next stop: Oprah! Ha- anyone have a contact there?!
– Help Lesotho, an organization which exists to make a difference. www.helplesotho.com
I suspect we'll have a few more, which is fine – because I now know how to edit my posts!
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