Dithubaruba. Festival Time ya’ll

With weekdays that were jam packed with sessions back to back, this weekend was a treat and welcomed sweet relief from PST. My fellow Trainees and I were taken to a culture festival known as Dithubaruba in Molepolole. The day was promised to be filled with Botswana cultural dances, performances, and motivational speeches delivered by the religious, traditional, and political leaders of the communities of Molepolole.

Knowing me ya’ll know I love a good festival. Hell I took advantage of them all while I was in Nawlins. That city, my beloved city. Anyhow, we had this opportunity beforehand to “top-up” or upgrade our tickets to V.VIP, which would get us a spot in a shaded tent (totally necessary for the now 95 degree heat), a chance to network or greet dignitaries, receive snacks (super important), and a mystery souvenir. One of the coolest moments was sitting right behind the US ambassador in Botswana and his possible wife/partner. We were prohibited from drinking any of the traditional Botswana brewed beer, but I went wild with the Ginger brew that was provided in our tents.

As I shot video after video of each performance, I couldn’t help but just be mystified by their every move, their incredible footwork, and amazing rhythm and SOUL. I can’t describe just how powerful their movement got me to feel so blessed to be able to witness it all. (The videos are soon to be posted, my internet connectivity has been stalled due to my reluctance to plug myself back into the different sources of media- don’t hate me guys I just can’t force myself to be that connected it might make me sad).

After some of the beautiful and moving performances, lunch was served. Even though the V.VIP were supposed to get first dibs, it seemed that the schedule was behind. Go figure. So lunch was delayed for another hour or so. When we finally got through the line, I got to try a bit of the paleche, motogo, dinawa (beans), rape, lentils, seswaa, and beef gravy. It all seemed so delicious at the time after waiting for hours from breakfast, but I was soon going to regret the very meal that got me in deep shit. Story following…

Following the lovely long day of cultural festivities, I proceeded to go to my friend’s house to wind down and watch Bridesmaids. So… remember the scene in the movie, where Kirsten Wig’s character takes everyone to this cozy Brazilian restaurant from which everyone experiences food poisoning and uncontrollably and violently shits everywhere at the bridesmaids fitting appointment. Yup. It happened folks. I shit my pants. Literally. I woke up in the middle of the night only to find that my stomach and butthole had a mind of its own. The feeling was uncontrollable and insane. My butthole was actually quivering in fear. Then finally while I was digging around for my flashlight to go to unlock my door (which is barred), shit got real. I continued to walk to the latrine as the process was continuing, finished my business at my latrine, tossed the evidence, and called it a night. 

I can finally check off pooping myself from the Peace Corps to-do list. The funniest part is I remember telling my friends that night that whoever shits themselves has to tell their story. Life has shitty jokes I suppose. And that’s the scoop on my poop. Ok end of poop puns I promise.