A Small African Village Called Otse

 Much happens daily in a mission. It’s constant change and flux. In addition to the routinely scheduled arrivals and departures of missionaries from all over the world, there comes a steady email stream of reassignments into and occasionally out of Botswana and Namibia due to VISA issues. Which often change at the whim of a country over changing political scenes. Elder Ncenga (pronounced with a frontal tongue clip for the “c”) completed his mission giving us an excuse for a farewell dinner.

Throw in a move to a new office, my new unexpected assignment to keep a mission history, an eviction from a missionary flat, and a changing of the guard, and well...it’s been a busy and stressful couple of weeks. Our dear president took a nighttime fall a couple of weeks ago and sustained a rather serious head injury. It was decided he should recuperate in Johannesburg, South Africa, for a while, so we have an acting interim president, President Dunstan G. B. T. Chadumbuka. He and his wife served as mission leaders here a few years ago, so their experience is a huge blessing to us. Sis. Chadambuka is a quiet lovely and witty woman whom I look forward to befriending deeper.

Our new office digs are just lovely.  With windows all around, it's drenched each day with the beautiful African sun.  What a privilege it is to be here serving these sweet young people.  Interim President Chadumbuka pondered aloud how it is that we can love people we've never met from nothing more than their picture.  I too have frequently pondered this phenomenon of the heart, this love for the young missionaries we serve felt so profoundly and so viscerally.  I chalk it up to just another tender mercy from our Father.  

Driving here on the wrong side of the road remains an exercise in either faith or stupidity, I'm not sure which.  Rules of the road are suggestions only, red lights are run with reckless and lengthy abandon, people pass on the wrong side of the road, drive along the sidewalks, and cross over raised concrete medians and through pedestrian areas with frequency.  My favorite are the creepers, those faithless individuals who slink along at less than half the posted limit due to either inexperience with or dread of traffic but who clog up the works and test my patience.  Does the "L" mean learner or loser, we tease each other.  Argh; hurts my motor to go so slow.

P-Day was spent exploring a wee village about an hour south of our home just beyond the suburbs of Gaborone.  It's not uncommon for many people to travel into the big city where they work their jobs during the week but then return home to their small village for the weekend.  People born in a quiet neighborly village aren't particularly thrilled with the hustle and traffic of Gaborone but instead prefer restful peaceful weekends where they grew up and perhaps are now raising their own family. The village we explored is named Otse, and I felt my blood pressure drop precipitously even as we entered.  Unusally situated around a very small lake, it felt worlds away from the city with cows and donkeys wandering the streets, children chasing each other around the skirts of their mamas gossiping over fences, and men slowly meandering down dirt roads amiably chatting with all they met.  

Otse, population 7600, sits amongst some rather lofty hills, one of which houses endangered nesting vultures.  A visit to the park ranger was quite informative.  True to the Batswana people, our park ranger host was more than happy to chat with us about the vultures of Otse as well as share pictures of his side gig, that of removing snakes from people's property including a 9-foot long black mamba.  

                  

                                                

                  

                  

                                                    

The local store, bar, vegetable stand, and tuck shops exude the essence of small village Botswana Africa; quaint, quiet, easy living, neighborliness, and charm.  We were so besotted that we plan to return next P-Day there to enjoy the hospitality of the locals and to sit leasurely and watch the vultures soar on the air current rising off the cliffs.  Pictures to follow. 

                

                 

     

                  

                  

Kudu...it's what's for dinner tonight.  Maybe it'll taste like chicken?