Excerpt from 24 New Moons I viewed the Farmers Training Center (FTC) as a half-empty glass. It was not living up to its promise or potential. Through gross mismanagement and blatant, almost hostile neglect, it had deteriorated to a low state. It certainly was not a model farm. It was not a meeting facility of choice. And it was not an educational institution. I would have closed the facility because it was an advertisement showing anyone who came near it that the Ministry of Agriculture did not know what it was doing and was staffed by corrupt incompetents.
Others viewed the FTC as a glass half-full. To the students it was a grand institution, a world so removed from their experiences and their day-to-day lives in their villages, they could not imagine improving it. They watched it falling apart and did not recognize it as a problem. There is so much that we, Americans, take for granted, I think its worthwhile spelling out what was so wonderful about the place from our students viewpoint.
The FTC had electricity. Power went off from my American eyes, power shutting down one-fourth of the time is much too frequently but most of the time electric lights, electric heaters, and electric tools worked. I wanted to install a small electric generator to keep the water pump operating, but that was an extravagance the Resident Officer did not want to pursue.
The FTC had water. First of all, it had three ponds. Trees ten meters tall surrounded one pond, another had grassy meadows leading to its shore, and the large pond stretched far enough to form a marsh. The large pond was fed from an underground spring on an adjacent plot of ground. The middle and lower ponds held the run off from the large one. The students rarely noticed or remembered the bird life that frequented the ponds or the almost mystical scenery they projected with Mount Machache as a backdrop, but they knew that cattle drink water and they could simply look and marvel that there it is in great abundance. They could fetch water for themselves from practically outside their doorways. However, most of the time, they did not have to fetch water.
The FTC had water taps located in numerous spots around the campus. The kitchen and washrooms had faucets inside. Imagine. Indoor plumbing and flush toilets. When the water pressure was high enough and the electricity was working, the geezers worked and they had hot water from the taps.
Did it matter that no electricity meant there was no water? Did it matter that repair of a holding tank interrupted water flow for months? Did it matter that when the regular system did not work they had to revert to what they knew? They merely fetched water from the ponds or from the well at the edge of the lower pond when they needed to flush the toilets or get water to heat for cooking or bathing. Did it matter that anyone not just the weak stomached Peace Corps volunteers, but anyone who drank the ponds water without first boiling it vigorously got violently sick? All the questions receive an answer of No because the FTC had running water.
The students were provided with three meals a day. Count them. Three meals every day. Most meals were papa. Some included moroho. Some were one-third a loaf of bread and a mug of tea. But twice a week two times every week the students ate nama. For those feasts, three chickens were slaughtered and chopped into ten pieces -- including the head, feet, and internal organs and each student got a piece. Twice a week. They ate well at the FTC.
Most of all, though, the students had camaraderie. All of them were about in the same boat. So they shared everything. When seven students started their vegetable production projects, thirty-five students helped turn the garden plots.
The tuition at the FTC for two years was 210 maloti two ten for two years. It was a great bargain, what a deal. Parents or uncles or grandparents could not feed the students for that low cost, less than ten maloti a month, or about a dollar fifty.
The students had a ready-made soccer team. Friends from the local village provided team uniforms. Two of the students lived in the village when not at school, so they knew everyone. In our area, most people were fans of the Chiefs with black and yellow colors. Getting yellow shirts for uniforms was easy. Though every shirt was a different style, they all were the same yellow color. Our team looked great and played good football, too.
They also had a student-led choir. They would practice for their concerts for weeks before each event. Between the end of the last chores for the day and the dinner bell, Amy and I could sit in our kitchen, thirty feet from the classroom, and listen to the students sing.
And there were only four or five students per dormitory room. Quite an improvement from the tighter living arrangements at home.
By American standards, all the students were poor. More telling, however, is that by Lesothos standards most of the students were poor. Most of them had lost one or both of their parents. They were living with grandparents or uncles or brothers or sisters. The FTC gave them a place to be for a few months. It gave them time to laugh and loaf. It gave them an opportunity to do some meaningful work. And most of them did learn some skills that might help them earn a living once they moved on.
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