R.I.P. Trader Joe's Cookie Butter:(

  
   Trader Joe's Cookie Butter joined the glucose gods in heaven on Saturday, May 4. I'll miss him.

   I'd like you to join me in mourning the loss of my only jar of Trader Joe's Cookie Butter.
   I finished him off with an apple on the evening of Saturday, May 4.
   He was 7-months-old. Sniff. Sniff.
   I've written about my love of Cookie Butter before. Figured I'd ship a jar to remind me of home.
   The highly addictive crushed biscuit spread was supposed to last during my entire 27-month Peace Corps service. But the glucose gods had other plans.
   Cookie Butter, also known as crack, influenced many a snack before--and during--my Peace Corps service. He spread himself thinly on many a wholegrain cracker. Made himself plenty of homes atop numerous slices of bread. And his sweetness perfectly balanced out the tartness of many a Granny Smith apple.
   Nutella had nothing on my precious Cookie Butter. Neither did peanut butter. Nor jelly.
   My taste buds, belly and Peace Corps service will never be the same without Cookie Butter. Sniff. Sniff.
   It will take time; for I will get through this heartbreaking loss. Cookie Butter will be missed like a loved one.
   But I'm sure he's resting safely in a pantry with the glucose gods in heaven; already having spread his sugary sweetness on many a slice of Angel food cake...for some devil.

   

Children make the best language teachers!

  
   My host siblings (from left to right), Tsepiso, Katleho and Rethabile, have been my best Sesotho language teachers.

   One weekend, my 3-year-old host brother, Katleho, came into my house to play.
   He started touching things. Picked things up. Threw things around.
   "Abuti o hampe"! (Boy is bad!) I said to him.
   "U letetsi! U leshanu!" he sharply retorted.
   Curious and surprised at his response, I asked him to repeat himself. He wouldn't. But I could tell by his tone that he had verbally fought me as hard as he could with his tart toddler tongue.
   Later on, I found out that the little boy called a liar. A liar!!! LOL!
   Although I received excellent Sesotho language training from the Peace Corps, the bana (children) have been my best teachers of Lesotho's mother tongue.
   Sesotho is one of two official languages spoken here. The other is English.
   Sesotho was created by French missionaries many years ago. Different variations of the language are spoken in South Africa, Botswana and Swaziland. It has aspects like the click sounds that dominate the famous South African clicking language of Xhosa.
   And Nelson Mandela speaks Sesotho.
   It's an interesting language but I've had moments where I've struggled to grasp it.
   This is where the children have come in handy for me.
   At school, I always ask my students for Sesotho translations. Helps me get the lesson-and my message-across.
   Last week, some students were play fighting during lunch time. I told them to stop fighting. No one listened.
   I asked a few students for the Sesotho translation of "stop fighting" (Se ka loana ntoa!) and the fighting ceased.
   At home, my host siblings act as my translators and transcribers. My 14-year-old host sister, Rethabile, practices Sesotho with me when she's home from boarding school.
   We patiently read my old Peace Corps notes. She corrects my rusty pronunciations. Introduces me to new Sesotho words.
   "Hantle! (Good!)" she tells me after our lessons.
   "U bua Sesotho hantle haholo! (You speak Sesotho very well!)"
   When it comes to Basotho bana teaching me their mother tongue, Rethabile is the honey to her brother's vinegar.  

Teaching in Lesotho

Students at my school, Tsoaing Primary, get ready for morning assembly.

Good morning class! How are you today?
We are well and glad to see you, Madame Lerato!

   That is how my classes start. The students stand up and greet me as I walk in the classroom.
   Pretty cool, huh? You rarely get that in America, lol.
   But I'm not in America. I'm in Lesotho, and teaching here has been quite the learning experience.
   Although the Peace Corps gave me solid educational training when I first arrived in country, I'm still on a learning curve.
   I've gotten much better at using different teaching methodologies and classroom management strategies this session, though. And the good thing is that I'm very passionate about teaching and want to learn how to be a better teacher.
   I teach at a school named Tsoaing Primary, which sits atop a tiny mountain in the district of Mafeteng. The school's located less than 200 feet from my house, which makes my early morning "commute" easy:) Tsoaing has no running water, electricity, air conditioners or heaters. Students call teachers "Sir" and "Madame." School starts at 8 a.m.
   About 70 percent of the students are orphans. Most are dirt poor. Despite their personal challenges, the students come to school with good attitudes and are loads of fun.
   I have compassion for them (you have to) but I also lay the law down when need be by using alternative discipline techniques. Spanking, or "shapa," is illegal but still used by many teachers around the country. As a Peace Corps Volunteer, I can't shapa (and wouldn't if I could). Instead, I punish by having naughty students run laps around the school, do squats or clean the classroom and front office.
   Recently, though, I've implemented "Student of the Month," and that's helped significantly with bad behavior. If a student talks during class, their name goes in my little black book and they won't be eligible for SOTM. Students get so sad if their name gets written but they end up getting the message.
   I work with a co-teacher who's a brilliant woman. She's a math teacher who has been teaching for 13 years. We are working on a letter exchange program where students are writing pen pals in America. (The letters will be mailed within the next two months.) It's good having a counterpart in the classroom because I'm a first-time teacher and she helps me with language and relay things to the children if they don't understand me.
   Fun is something I try to incorporate a lot of with my 170 students (between 3 classes). We sang songs. They teach me their mother tongue, Sesotho. They get a kick out of my American accent. (The Ministry of Education wants the children to speak English and I follow this, but sometimes, I have to speak Sesotho so the students can understand me.) 
   After school, I have a super busy schedule. I tutor on Mondays, teach craft classes to the teachers on Tuesdays and Thursdays (I'll get into this in a separate post at some point). On Wednesdays, I run the school's English club. And teachers have been teaching me a traditional dance after all of our school activities are done.
   Whew! A lot, right? It is, but I'm here to work and I really enjoy being in the classroom with the students.
   Things aren't perfect here in Africa and Tsoaing and I have a few meltdown moments in the classroom, but please know that I truly, wholeheartedly enjoy waking up each day and going to Tsoaing to teach:)

Sephora by OPI's "Chesnuts About You"

Sephora by OPI's "Chesnuts About You" has been the cat's meow for me here in Lesotho.

It's been a while since my last nail polish review, but I've found the perfect cutie that's worthy of high praise!
She's Sephora by OPI's "Chesnuts About You," a very aptly named polish.
I love it more than Kim Kardashian loves black men:)
CAY is a rose gold, that all-flattering hue that was oh so popular in the American polish world last season.
Many rose gold polishes give off a blinding metallic finish (I'm looking at you Essie Penny Talk!) but not CAY. It gives off a subtle shine. A hint of glitter. Just the right touch of sparkle.
CAY is a very versatile hue. It has potential for for day and night wearage.
And this color would make the perfect base coat for any kind of nail art starring the color black.
My friend, Chelsea, another volunteer here, has graciously been letting me borrow this polish for about a month now.
I really don't want to mess up a friendship or anything but brace yourself Chels, for you may never see CAY again:)

Durban, South Africa

I was very, very blessed to visit Durban, South Africa this past week.
It's a cute city. Very, very underrated.
Durban sits along South Africa's coastline and many of its residents are Zulu and Indians.
(During a walking tour, I was very surprised to learn that Gandhi lived in Durban for 21 years.)
I learned many other things in Durban and I had a great time!
Here are some pix:

Here's the Juma Musjid. It's the largest mosque in the Southern Hemisphere and can accommodate 7,000 people:


A scene from a street market during a walking tour:


Me goofing off at the Durban Oceanfront:


Youth performing a traditional Zulu dance at a local mall:


I ate dried ostrich and it was yummo:


I almost got eaten by a T-Rex at the local museum:


I had to pay 2 Rand (20 cents) to piss at some places. Ain't that some s%it!


Traditional Zulu jewelry. I wanted everything on this table:


Went in this bead store at the craft market and blew my mind and wallet:


Traditional medicine at the herb market:


Downtown Durban:


A beautiful mural:


More herbs:


A rickshaw driver:


The Durban Oceanfront:


Heaven:


Bunny chow. It's just Indian curry in a bread bowl and yummy:


I spent about a week in Durban with other volunteers for Easter vacay and I miss it already.
The food was good. The vibe was like a big city. And the ocean was gorgeous.
I'd love to go back at some point before I leave South Africa. And you should too!

A Poem for Popcorn! Yay!

My host sister, Rethabile is enjoying some popcorn.

NOTE: A lot of the children in the village where I live in love popcorn. So does my host family. I'm always popping a fresh batch for everybody so I thought it'd be cute to write a cute little poem about this experience so here goes:

A Poem for Popcorn

I love to make good popcorn,

For the children on my block.
When they hear that pop, pop, pop,
What they're doing stops.

They smell the butter; hear the sizzle,
Of the kernel corns.
They come around my little hut,
So glad that they were born.

When the popcorn's done,
I'll gladly share my stash.
The greedy little gobblins,
Eat it up; it doesn't last.

In my village no snack beats,
The love of fresh corn popped.
It tops potato chips,

And even lollipops!

By Jennifer Jiggetts

Safety and Security as a Peace Corps Volunteer

Lesotho is a beautiful country filled with gorgeous mountains and friendly people but I still keep my guard up and stay vigilant at ALL TIMES!

One of my brothers is a federal prison guard.
The other is a sailor.
Many of my other siblings are in the military as well.
So when my family found out that I was moving to Africa to work as a Peace Corps Volunteer, they rightfully interrogated me about the organization's safety and security practices and policies (read: they panicked.)
"Can you carry a gun?"
"How will you stay safe?"
"How will the Peace Corps protect you?
These are some of the many questions they asked.
Well, I have answers.
Before signing the paperwork, I did a lot of research about the Peace Corps's safety record. I read with great sadness lots of reports saying that the Peace Corps wasn't sensitive to the health and safety of some volunteers. I had a lot to think abouth. Had to ask myself what I was getting myself into.
After much prayer, thought, and conversation with my family, though, I accepted the offer from Peace Corps.
Please KNOW and BELIEVE that I am very careful and use common sense everywhere I am here (like I did in America.)
I lock my doors at all times, I don't bring unnecessary attention to myself and I don't go out when it's dark. I am vigilant at ALL times.
I text the Peace Corps whereabouts phone if I leave my site for more than a day. Peace Corps must know where I am at all times. That's fair.
Peace Corps also has an evacuation plan for each country, God forbid any major event like an uprising or natural disaster should occur. And I, like the other volunteers, are in on that plan.
As a young woman living in a foreign country and volunteering for Peace Corps, I have felt safe so far in my service.
Perhaps, I've been blessed to haven't had any major incidences happen to me just yet.
Or maybe, like my family members in the military, I keep my guard up at all times.

The African Skyline

If the African Skyline were an animal, she'd surely be a peacock.
The sky here never fails to amaze me with its dramatic flair and breathtaking beauty.
The child in me squeals over the pink sunsets, which resemble cotton candy.
Here, take a peek:


I never get enough of these pink sunsets!


So pretty!


Beautiful!


Gorgeous!

Pretty, aren't they? I couldn't agree more.
Africa has long been famous for her skyline and now, I see exactly why.

Meet my youngest host brother, Katleho!

 
Katleho Tsiane is a cutie pie, until he turns into a terror!

Meet my three-year-old host brother, Katleho (Kah-Clay-ho).
Cute, ain't he?
Well, don't let it fool you. He can be a little terror!

Here are a little bit more facts about Katleho:

Name: Katleho Tsiane (Last name is pronounced See-ahn-nee).

Age: 3 going on 33.

Nickname: The Dustbin Baby because he loves dirt.

Fave foods: Blue crayons.

Best friend: Mud and Dirt.

Fave sport: Playing with dirt, taking mud baths.

Single status: He has two "girlfriends" in the village.

Job: Being a bad boy.

Fave Drink: Tea.

So there.
Now you have all the stats on my 'lil boy.
He's something else but I love him to death.
This little boy has my heart!

Eating in Lesotho

Here is a plate of traditional Basotho food: papa, moroho and lesheleshele (lay-shel-lay-shel-lay).

Happy New Year everyone!

Hope you all had a nice holiday season. I sure did. Mine was nice and quiet; just the way I like things:)

Before I left for Africa, I filled my face with all of the foods that I knew I'd miss: Indian cuisine, cupcakes and Jasmine fried rice.
I miss my old American goodies but I've got to say, I've been eating OK in the Motherland.
Some of the staples of Basotho cuisine include papa, moroho and lesheleshele (lay-shel-lay-shel-lay).
Papa is made from maize and is what I like to call the "cousin" of American grits because papa is really just a thicker version of grits. Basotho tend to eat papa with moroho, beans and nama (meat).
Moroho is finely-chopped spinach or cabbage. This is my fave Basotho food and I think it's simply because I  love spinach.
I also love lesheleshele, which is a porridge reminiscient of cream of wheat.
I don't like the latter but will eat thee hell out of lesheleshele, which is usually eaten for breakfast and sweetened with sugar.
The Basotho also eat various produce like carrots, beats, tomatoes and peaches, many of which they grow.
(My host mom has three big fields and is growing produce for the winter months now.)
When I'm not eating Basotho food, I cook Ramen, hard-boiled eggs, beans and rice.
Yes, yes, y'all. Ya girl is back in college! LOL!
I also love making my own popcorn, roasting marshmallows with my host sister, drinking cold soda and eating from KFC when I get the chance (and can afford it).
It's funny because in America, I'd NEVER, EVER, EVER, EVER drink soda or eat KFC but some things just have been so evocative of home.
And nothing says home like food!