Category: PC Lesotho

Merry Christmas! I hope you are having a wonderful holiday season. Christmas decorations at the hotel we go to hang out and get free wi-fi at. The Christmas decoration were out before Thanksgiving – pretty unusual. 

As part of the Peace Corps training program in Lesotho, we have practice teaching. The school year ends at the end of November, so students have the option of spending the first 2 weeks of their summer vacation in school. I taught two maths classes (they call it maths vs. math) and co-taught one life… Continue reading Practice Teaching

The native language of Basotho (people of Lesotho) is Sesotho. As part of our training process, we live with host families who mainly speak Sesotho and we have language and culture classes for a couple hours almost every day. Sometimes when I’m talking to people in my village or in the camptowns, I still have… Continue reading Speaking in Sesotho

Don’t worry, family and friends, I am still eating a lot of food here: The first month of being here, our host families cooked for us. We ate mostly traditional food. The main foods of Basotho consist of papa and morojo. Papa is corn/maize ground up and heated up slowly with water. Morojo is a… Continue reading Eating

Part of training includes a host volunteer visit. This is where trainees get to see where a volunteer lives, how classes are run, and ask someone one-on-one about his/her personal experience.  I traveled with another trainee, Paula, to visit Gerad, who lives in the mountains. It was probably one of the farthest host volunteer sites.… Continue reading Trip to the Mountains

Staging is the orientation into training for the Peace Corps.  It is the first time that we meet the people that we will be spending the next two years with. Staging for my group of Education volunteers (math or English) was in Philadelphia. Then together as a group, we travel to Lesotho, are met by… Continue reading The Big Commute

The first time I traveled on an airplane by myself (and probably every time since then) my mom was so worried. I was already around 15 years old and felt pretty grown-up, so none of her concerns even phased me. Regardless, my Uncle Tony (my Mom’s cousin) took me to the airport. He walked me… Continue reading In Loving Memory