Arrival to Maseru Lesotho

My head was still buzzing from the lack of sleep on the 12 hour journey. I opened the sliding glass door to look at the sun setting over the hill. The sky an unbelievable purple/pink. I sat for a moment taking it in and contemplating what vegetables I will start to garden once winter is over when I start to hear the distant sound of men singing in Sesotho in A capella. A sigh and a smile melt onto my face! I am here- I am home.

Of course, my arrival came with a few interesting twists.

England was the first transition after Houston, Texas that gave me the luxury of adjusting to time change and slightly more refreshing weather than muggy Texas (not highly recommended). Neil, my most favorite and loved British bastard, reintroduced me to British lango and beer. I met the 4 other blondes of his life and decided that all of my future children will have a british accent just because they sound more proper- even when they whine! My friend Kweku made me the most amazing Vietnamese-Asian fusion dinner and introduced me to his world in Bristol! Not only does he fly Prince Charles around for fun, he has shmoozed with Abba!

After attempting to "sample" every British beer, I arrived to the airport yet again attempting to trolly 200 lb of luggage. Neil, thankfully, did not do a drop and run special but decided to make sure I got on the plane so that he was sure to be rid of me! Unfortunately, I did not anticipate that Europe charges by the kg and would hand me a lovely $3000 bill if I wanted to send my luggage with me. After a moment of shock and surrealism, I opted not. But what to do with the luggage? I had already spent the last 1.5 hours in lines that I didn't even know existed paying for luggage (another line) and getting my tickets. Time was not being kind and the luggage company that ships excess luggage decided that they don't go to Lesotho. I looked at Neil, laughed (what else do you do) and quickly said my goodbyes as he took my luggage home with him for me to figure out later! I ran to my gate (yes and it was the last possible gate as well) barely making my flight. Not what you would expect when you arrive 2 1/2 hours early...but I was feeling that this might be my first taste to Africa.

I sat next to my first taste of a South African. I thought I would push my luck and start the conversation regarding the Apartheid just to see what the thoughts were on blacks and whites (he was a white man who grew up on a small farm, hunter, conservative....perfect)! I learned that he was not only open, but he did not like being called African because that was reserved for black people (He, on the other hand, was from South Africa). Hmmm. So being the dumb blonde I like to play, we talked of this Obama figure, politics of his country, travel, and so forth which is half the reason I arrived in a state of buzz to Johannesburg (the other being that it was near impossible to get comfortable in those chairs).

I meander my way over to the propeller plane that will "safely" fly me to my new home! As the mountains started to appear after vast arrays of desert a smile appeared on my face. I will now always remember the moment the plane landed and I took my first breath of air in Lesotho.

Ntate Pii and the driver pick me up and we wonder through streets of poverty toward the clinic where 150 children wait in the front to be seen. I see the chaos and my sleepless mind just observes. I am quickly introduced to everyone not remembering one name and see the clinic in a daze. I walk toward a glass door to leave and on the other end a little child looks up me with a big smile! My heart settles as I realize this is all going to be ok...and I'm doing the right thing! I am going to have a really hard time not taking them all home!

We arrive to my new home in a gated community which relates to a security man leaning his body weight onto a metal pole in order to lift it and let us in. I live in #20. On some street. somewhere in Maseru Lesotho. I feel the cold immediately when they opened the door and wished I had my other two pieces of luggage with my winter attire! The home at first looks basic. Nothing on the walls. A few pieces of furniture. 2 bedrooms. 1 spare room. A bathroom. Then as they leave me to rest, I sit. Almost like welcoming your new home to you and vice versa. I see the garden that was, the distance of mountains, a river across the way, smell of smoke, sounds of kids laughing, men singing, and the white walls start to feel more comfortable! I turn on my heater using a gas tank that I have to turn on (feel like I should get some chicken out and grill it while I'm at it). The heater heats exactly 5 feet in front so I don't walk to far! But it's not as cold as I had imagined.

It's New Mexico! All with a Lesotho twist!

And with that, I will leave you with my only word I have learned in Sesotho...

Kea leboah (Thank you)