Back in Lesotho

It has just taken me 32 minutes to open the “Add New Post” page, and there are “errors on the page,” so I don’t know if anything at all will post.
Back in Roma, the light trawls long shadows over dry blonde grass, there is only occasionally water in the pipes, birdsong and cowbells make music with wind in the eucalyptus, and open smiles and two-handed handshakes accompany long warm greetings.

We had intense sun, clouds, and a chill wind on our last day at the beach, and I got the most severe sunburn I’ve ever had. Despite having the good sense to slather sunscreen over my face and arms, I neglected my legs and feet, and now they are the color of raw beef, swollen and throbbing. But so far no blisters. If the skin will just stay intact, I think I’ll be OK.

The drive back to Roma took eleven hot, sweaty, long hours, and I was in a state of collapse by the end of it, but we were all happy to have gone. Each brought home our own exclamations. But now the altitude is kicking me in the chest again. Tomorrow I’ll be a guest lecturer in one class, and then Chris and I leave for Ramabanta, a lodge up in the mountains which he calls Paradise. It’s a very expensive trip he insists on paying for, bless his generous heart. I tried to talk him out of it, because I can’t contribute anything at all to the cost, but he insists. So here goes. I am going to wish I had a really decent camera for landscape.

We’ll be gone till Sunday night. Then back here for three last days and two more guest lectures from me, and then I’ll begin the long journey back to Oregon, seeing Palesa and her son at the airport in Johannesburg if all goes well for her to get there. I cannot reconcile these different worlds. They don’t fit. When I am here, it all feels familiar and that world seems strange and impossible. But I know that when I am there again, this will all seem impossible.

I cannot see the blog nor any of the comments since I was in the internet cafe, so I will respond to any that may be when I’m able. Don’t worry about the coming silence. I will do my best to take notes and post it all, possibly after I return to Oregon.

About Kendall

Undoing white supremacy and capitalism, one photograph at a time.
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9 Responses to Back in Lesotho

  1. Patricia says:

    it came through fine. I think of you and seeing Palesa often.

  2. Elli says:

    enjoy – I am waiting impatiently for the photos!

  3. suenosdeuomi says:

    No Aloe Vera to be had for your badly sunburned legs? Sure hope they stay closed, infections are the last you need. Best wishes, have a wonderful time still and I too will be waiting, patiently, for more to come.

  4. Barbara Charman says:

    Keeping my fingers crossed that you get to see Palesa. Take care of that sunburn. Am so grateful for your posts and the peephole you offer into your experience.

  5. leiflife says:

    Dearest Kendall, sometimes the most extraordinary journies are the most difficult. What a time you have had. I honestly believe when you do arrive home you will be enriched, and perhaps the place and your experiences will be real in a whole new way. Parts of this blog are pure poetry: “…the light trawls long shadows over dry, blond grass.” Beautiful!

  6. Evergreengirl says:

    At last. I have read every word of your remarkable adventure and have been by turns amazed, enthralled, enraptured, happy, sad and angry, afraid and outraged, brought to laughter and brought to tears. It’s hard for me to even begin to imagine what all this must be like for you, what it must mean to you. I so hope the rest of your journey goes well, that you and the ones you love remain safe and well, and that you have a joyful reunion with your daughter. Got your e-mail. Anxiously await your return, upon which I hope we’ll have time to talk and talk in person.

  7. Suzanne says:

    ouch, ouch, said the sunburn empath. take great care, as we all say,
    and mean, and thank you over and over for your words and letting us
    in to what your days and plans and sights are. be well be safe, we look forward
    to seeing you

  8. Keith says:

    I empathise with your sunburn. Having a fair, Celtic complexion, I have to be very careful. The last time I went sunbathing I inadvertantly missed putting sunscreen on my left ankle and the resulting burn saw me unable to walk for almost a week. That was more than 20 years ago!

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