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“Now that’s a persuasion check. Grab your D20.”

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1/31/20 This one’s super nerdy, but there’s an important connection at the end, trust me.            The lumbering half orc sprints forward to face the kobold crouched low to the ground. His hands grip a long metal shaft stretching downward toward a hardened steel axe head that is dragging behind him in the dirt as he moves. Muscles flex and strain as the half orc raises the weapon up in a diagonal slash, the weight of the great axe now several times heavier due to the momentum of the run. With a grunt of force, the large axe now connects with the small body of the Kobold. The sheer force of the axe’s momentum drives the martial weapon right through the evil creature as a screech can be heard echoing through the halls of the Kobolds lair.            “Holy F*** Seabass. You just cut that thing in two!” yells Delves, a gnome warlock who sits upon the shoulders of a halfling rogue.            Taking only a moment in the heat of the battle Seabass relaxes his grip on the large
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A commentary on the spread and perception of the Coronavirus(COVID-19) from an American volunteer in Botswana

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            Looking out over a large conference room I can see the pained expression of the bridge workers searching my words for answers. What started as a simple health talk about how to protect yourself from the Coronavirus has now devolved into a lengthy discussion about the origins of the Coronavirus and quarantine procedures for Botswana. Their eyes rest on the brink of fear not knowing when the virus will come to Botswana, nor if they are healthy enough to survive it. I am not an expert. I am a 23-year-old Peace Corps volunteer living in a village in the Northern District of Botswana. I hold nothing more than a bachelor’s in biology and 7 months as a volunteer in country. I am a novice to the public health realm, my knowledge stemming from accurate online resources strapped together with duct tape and a newly realized passion for public health. The advantage to these fresh eyes is that I have no pre-conceived notions to the delays and struggles of public health. Every pi
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“Now if I dip the broom handle in the salmon”

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            I often like to have control in my life. When I plan a trip with friends, I’m the one planning on an Excel spreadsheet, the food we’re going to buy and what recipes to use. When it came to my interview for the Peace Corps, I had 3 pages of notes and every question they were going to ask prepared a week in advance. I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. At other times, I find myself spontaneously hanging upside down in a tree with a cat in one hand, another hand wrapped around the tree, desperately trying to not get scratched, while simultaneously trying to drop said cat without harming him. His name is Sebastian, and only a week earlier did I find myself suddenly owning said cat.            A few weeks earlier, I was walking into the teacher’s lounge at the local primary school. Upon entering I made eye contact with a Korean man sitting reading a book on his Kindle. This wouldn’t be a surprise in most countries, but in Botswana it’s rare to find someone of Asian de
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“How long have you been here for?”

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12/3/19 In this post I share about my faith, missionary work, and my limits for work with missionaries as a governmental employee. If it’s not your cup of tea I totally respect that, feel free to check back for next blog in a few weeks.            Wednesdays at my clinic are slow. If you can imagine a liquor store on January 2, then you’re only halfway there, and you still must remember that my position in the clinic isn’t as a health care provider. Regardless of the amount of people in the hallway waiting for the nurses I’m not able to apply even a band aid.            As you can imagine this leads to a certain level of boredom as I message my counterpart (my liaison I work with in the clinic) for something to do, and start to flip through my Setswana note cards (I use these to study the language). Sadly even the Alcohol Committee volunteer who normally helps me isn’t to be found. At this point I’m left with few choices of how I can spend my afternoon. Leaving work so early
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I don’t know to feel embarrassed

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            Last week I made a mistake. Upon walking into my clinic at 7:20am I moved past a group of Batswana (multiple people from Botswana) and entered our morning meeting room. I sat down quietly and was waiting for the meeting to begin when one of the midwives called to me “Mogomotsi there’s someone asking for you.” Curious, I stood up and walked out into the hallway to be met with several looks of annoyance. One man spoke to me directly. “Ahh you did not greet us when you walked in.” I stood there awkwardly for a moment before shifting my body language. Leaning forward I said “Ahh sorry sorry sorry sorry, Dumela rra le bomma. Good morning to you all.” I was soon met with cracked smiles and soft “dumelas(hello).” As I stood up to head back into the meeting room I made a note to greet everyone at the doorway to the clinic regardless of how many people were there. The thing was that I didn’t feel bad about it at all.            Culture is a curious thing. You can study it, l
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"Try and avoid the elephants"

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9/7/19            There seems to be a lot of tradition when it comes to Peace Corps. Tradition that leaves you wondering why you’re standing in the middle of a room with a blind fold on and a camera going off. No this was not a gender reveal party, or a scene from 50 shades of grey but rather the announcement for where we will be living and serving for the next two years. Imagine 49 confused and slightly helpless soon to be volunteers standing over a map that’s been tapped to the ground. Suddenly everyone is told to take of their masks for the big reveal! Annndd! “Wait where is this again?”            Moments before removing the blindfold I was still not sure how I would react. I was told that I’d be up in the north, but what does that mean exactly? I wasn’t sure whether I should shout, cry or laugh because I had no clue what I would be getting with my site. Fast forward .2 seconds to removing the blindfold and I learned I was to be living in Kazungula (Ka-Zoon-Gu-la). Cool. Wh
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“Shine Your Shoes Mogomotsi”

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            I have a confession to make. Okay here it goes. I’ve never shined shoes before. There I said it. A simple task known by most gentlemen was totally beyond me up until a few days ago.            Here in Botswana there’s red dirt everywhere. It’s the dust in the air, the dirt on the floors and the lint in your pockets (I only know that after hand washing everything I own). So needless to say, a pair of black shoes quickly begins looking like the album cover to the White Stripes “Seven Nation Army”. It’s not a pretty picture. What’s more is that how you express yourself Is essential to integrating into Batswana culture (Batswana means the people of Botswana). My Language and Cultural Facilitator (LCF) told me the first thing people look at here is your shoes. Who knew that Forest Gump was actually right? From there, they’re going to judge every aspect of your appearance. Bad shoes can mean the start of a bad connection with someone. So that being said, I grabbed a brush a
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