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.