Since Thursday, much has happened. I went in to Mafeteng camptown, had a lovely tour with Melissa, Joey and Nathan, and then Joey and Nathan came back to Sekameng with me. We cooked a delicious dinner together and chatted into the wee hours of the morning, looking at the awesome stars and laughing about life. Water pressure dropped sometime around Friday or Saturday, and (what I thought was) my toilet began to smell really bad. I tried to be patient and flush it clear every time I could, but there was just no getting rid of the smell.
This stench progressed into my bedroom, where it lingered, and I concluded that it was not actually my bathroom, but rather the dead mouse that I had poisoned days before. Two to three days was probably about the right amount of time for that poison to kick in, so it had probably died in my ceiling where it was living. I found the situation both amusing and slightly depressing. Amusing because honestly, how dumb do I have to be? I poisoned an animal that lives in my ceiling; of course it’s going to go there to die. Then I have to deal with the smell for however long it takes a mouse corpse to decompose? Great. And slightly depressing because, well, I would have to deal with the smell for however long that is.
I told my counterpart and the secretary at school about it but tried to laugh it off – I did not want them worrying about it or trying to have the roof disassembled just to get the dead mouse out of there. They seemed only minorly concerned, and (thankfully) laughed at me (which I needed and deserved), especially because I inherited this cat, who should be killing any mice in my house, or at least scaring them away with cat-smell. In the meantime, I tried to ignore the stench of rotting carcass (which only seemed to be in my bedroom) when I went to sleep or needed to change clothes, and I avoided my room as much as possible.
School started on Monday. And by “started” I do not mean started as you or I might think of school starting. I mean some students showed up ready for class to begin, some came rather to register for classes, and even more simply did not come at all. Furthermore, the teachers did not even know who would be teaching what classes. So really, school did not actually start on Monday.
After several teachers’ meetings (and a whole lot of Sesotho), it was determined that I would be teaching Math(s) and Physics to Form A students, and Physics to Form B’s. I guess this suits me just fine. It totals 20 class hours per week as both A and B will be split into A1 and A2, B1 and B2. I had requested to only teach Math and Physics (if science at all, though I will say, it is nice for a balance), so that is what I got.
I will never forget walking into the classroom for the first time, those Form A students’ reactions to seeing my face at the door instead of a Basotho teacher were priceless. Lots of “OOOOOOOHHH”s and “OHWAAAUUUUWWWW”s (spelled phonetically, of course). Not long after I came into the classroom and set my things down on the small desk at the front of the classroom, all fifty plus students were dead silent. “Good morning, class,” is the typical greeting, so I said it and smiled. They all rushed to stand (as they are taught in primary school I think) and respond “Good morning, Madam!” “How are you today, class?” “We are fine, Madam, how are you?” Wow. It was that simple. Or at least I hoped so…
I spent the first few minutes going over expectations (a new word for many of them I believe). I expect things of them and I want them to expect things of me. For example, I expect them to respect each other, to try their hardest, to ask questions if/when they have them… all sorts of things taking classes means to me. I want them to expect me to show up to class (many Basotho teachers simply opt not to go to class if they feel so inclined), to answer their questions to the best of my ability, to mark their papers on time, etc. I’m truly not sure how much of what I was saying (very, very clearly) actually clicked in their heads, but hopefully something stuck.
I should mention that primary school runs grades 1 through 7, then High School has forms A through E (Sometimes they will do secondary school which is A-C, and then High School for D and E, but Sekameng is A-E). Primary school is taught only in Sesotho, though they do learn English. Once they get to Secondary level, all classes (except Sesotho, of course) are held in English. This can be a challenge, even for Basotho teachers. When you then add to the mix my accent (an American-taught American English accent), things can get very confusing.
Today was quite an exciting day in and of itself. During the last period of the day, several students came by the staff room where I was talking with some of the other teachers. They asked us if Indian people were considered black or white; apparently one of the other teachers wanted to know (maybe teaching development studies we think?). This raised a very interesting discussion. One teacher said they are white (I think her line of reasoning was that they are not black, so they must be white). Most teachers did not know, but the one who most strongly voiced his opinion believed that they were black. He then asked me what I though and I said, “Sometimes people in America call them brown; I do not think they are black or white; they are just Indian.” He went on to try to convince me that because of the shape of their nose and their hair color that they were black. An interesting perspective, to be sure. I did not want to argue too much in the first week of school but I can tell, there will definitely be a good amount of mutual learning here.
After our discussions, I went home (slightly disappointed I would not be able to run due to the thunder) and began writing, finishing up a letter. Jackie (the cat) came in (as usual whenever the door is open even the slightest bit) and began to make his way around, checking first if any food had been left out. I’m beginning to trust Jackie more, bit by bit, though I must say it helps to have a squirt bottle handy. I continued my writing and after a while with no sound from the cat, I decided to go make sure he wasn’t causing trouble. I heard a crunching sound and figured the rascal was in the kitchen eating something he shouldn’t. Armed with my spray bottle, I walked into the kitchen, sure I would find him digging around in my food. No cat. I was perplexed. I turned around and checked the rest of my house – there on the floor of my bedroom by the foot of my bed was Jackie, crunching on the head of a dead mouse while maggots crawled around all over my floor! EWW!
As it turns out, the mouse I had poisoned did not live in the ceiling. It lived under my bed, so it died under my bed. The stench I had smelled was not coming from ten feet above me; it was coming from two feet below me. The cat had gone into my room and dug the rotting carcass out from under my bed – a nice afternoon snack!
I threw on my sandals and dashed out the door to try to find someone to help me clean up the mess (looking back, I do not know why I needed someone to help me sweep it up, but I was flipping out). My counterpart had left for Maseru for the evening, so I went next to the principal who has, on numerous occasions, offered to help in any way he can. He, naturally, was out of his office at the moment. I burst into the staff room where the other male teachers were, but they were busy talking to a group of students. They asked what I needed; I told them; they assured me they would be there soon (Basotho time). On my way back home, I saw the principal’s secretary and her assistant coming towards the office. They saw how distraught I was and asked what was going on. When I explained the situation, ‘M’e Motselisi simply said. “’M’e, we are coming.” With that, they followed me home, kicked the cat off my sofa, grabbed my broom and swept all the nasty maggots from the floor. She then pulled my bed all the way out, swept the rest of my floor and dumped the garbage outside, well away from my home. Just that simple.
I told her she rescued me and she just laughed and said “Okay ‘M’e Katie, we will see you tomorrow.” And that was that.
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