Lion Tales

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 fou...

            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.     ...

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 second...

            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 ...

*Sitting in the living room of my homestay on the couch* Lolli(host dad): Koko (May I enter?) Me: Tsena! (Enter!) Lolli: Mogomotsi Me: Erra (yes dad?) Lolli: Mogomotsi I have brought a cow and you’re going to help me slaughter it Me: Alright better grab my red shirt.            During my time at Carroll College one of my biggest take a ways came not from my time in class, but rather the campus ministry I participated in. Service was at the heart of everything we did whether it was speaking to the incoming freshman or participating in local service projects. Everything led back toward serving the other in a direct capacity. With that being said, service is never easy. It’s a constant drain both emotionally, physically and you’re often placed into situations in which you don’t have the resources necessary. (Don’t worry we’ll get to the cow slaughtering in a bit.)          ...

These photos were taken one month ago as this journey was beginning. A month later and I still have no clue what's going on.

8/11/19 Many people have been asking what I’ve been doing while in Botswana and the further away I get from the start of my training the more difficult it is to answer that question. On the one hand I could just say. A LOT. In my mind that pretty much sums up the 2 weeks I’ve been here, but for the folks back home that’s about as helpful as setting up a mosquito net without any hangers (a story for another time). To try and understand the complexity of my brief time in the Peace Corps and the culture of Botswana, I want you to picture a city. If you picture Seattle you might think about the Sea Hawks, the Mariners, Pike Place Market and a thriving hipster community that doesn’t want any recognition. For me those are the superficial things you might see on the surface of a city. Go further now. Imagine memorizing every city street, corner and coffee shop in Seattle. Go even further. How do the people talk? How do they walk? What do people say to each other when they see a friend...