Don't cry for me Sefateng!

I just got back from the village of Sefateng which is about an hour and 45 minutes hike from the hospital with no roads to speak of except for paths cleared by cattle or human traffic. I went with Ntate Ntsape who works in the social welfare office at Maluti Hospital and we hiked down through the village of Likoting trekked across several large fields, forged via a small stone path through the river(which Tarra promptly fell into.....lovely muddy shoes and pants to make a first impression!), hiked up another mountain and finally made it to the village. Our first stop was the chief's house which looked like it had been through world war III (his son died last week and was buried over the weekend so the place had been wasted by neighbors, relatives, and other mourners). His wife offered us some moroho (leafy greens), papa (maize meal), and motho (fermented cream of corn) plus some unidentifiable bits of cow (I swear I got some intestines...made me feel homesick for Scottish cuisine!). I ate what I could, prayed to the gods of bacteria that I wouldn't be worshipping the porcelain god all tonight, and then I paid my respects. We ended up visiting about 8 households and I will be back out there through Friday. The whole visit made me realize that there are some communities that are working by hook or by crook in Lesotho and that this country must have been remarkably different even a decade ago. This community is a 'community' in the truest sense of the word. Even for the few hours that I was in the village people were out clearing local paths together, cooking together, consoling each other, and were extremely hospitable. Hmmm.....I hope this lasts!!!