How the mighty have fallen

As some of you may or may not have heard, for the last few months South Africa has been facing an energy crisis. In Johannesburg particularly, regular power outages lasting hours have become a regular facet of life, seriously impinging upon peoples’ quality of life. During much of this time of hardship Lesotho has been, for lack of a better word, smug. Until recently, we have had no significant power disruptions, and while South Africa groaned we all exulted in our good fortune. Those days are now over as for the last month or so Maseru has been experiencing rolling blackouts lasting anywhere from one to four hours in a given location. While there is a schedule of power cuts, the blackouts do not follow it. Many critical systems like traffic lights are also linked directly to the main grid, and so when a block goes out everything goes out.

At my gym the power goes out fairly regularly starting between 5:50 and 6:20 pm, coming back on around 9:00 pm. After racking myself a few times while running on the treadmill when the power cut out (you would think it would just slowly come to a stop. Not the case), I and the larger gym populace have become slightly savvier. No one uses the pool in the evenings and machines like exercise bikes and elliptical machines that draw power from the user become hot property around that magic time. Yesterday, when the place was plunged into darkness at 5:57 pm, I felt a little smug as I continued peddling away, watching a parade of fireflies and curses as the larger gym population tried to make their way to the locker rooms by the light of cell phones.

For a while I was feeling rather smug about my home power situation as well. While my accommodations are modest, I live in a neighborhood known for housing a number of the wealthy and political elite. For the first few weeks we were untouched by power outages or only got hit in the sweet spot between 9 and 12 in the morning. No longer, no longer. For the last couple of weeks I’ve regularly gotten home and been in the dark between 6 and 9 pm, which may be the worst time to go without power. I am currently considering investing in a paraffin stove as cold dinners are getting a bit boring, the power shortage shows no signs of abating, and I think it makes my guard uncomfortable when I go and hang out with him by his fire for extended periods of time. He’s a great guy, but with my limited Sesotho our conversation gets old pretty fast (exp. “And where are you from, good sir?”).

Above and beyond these little considerations, the power outages slow down work of all kinds. Most of the office buildings in the capital either have no or insufficient generator support and get hit during prime working periods for hours on end. This morning I was in the Ministry of Health for a series of meetings and did them in the dark. As we push for electronic systems and move to Excel and Access-based supply management, we make the system more efficient but also more vulnerable to these kinds of disruptions. So far the departments I work with have suffered nothing more serious than delays and lost work (people have learned the value of backing up their work quickly), but it is clear that the power disruptions, when spread throughout both the private and public sector in the capital, have a very high cost. I would write more, but my battery is running low.

You get what you pay for

A few weeks ago I decided to use my Saturday and go for a walk. Though Maseru is not that large a town, there are a number of areas I had never visited before. My only goals: score some sweet local music, find a decently priced Aranda blanket (a key part of the national costume), and get some nice photos. I succeeded on the first two counts, and I will let you all decide on the third.

One thing I definitely noticed in my wanderings was the presence of a tiered economy for basic goods. Maseru has three ShopRights, decent sized grocery stores with a wide selection and clean premises that would not be out of place anywhere in the US. The next step down is any of the multitudes of Chinese-owned groceries scattered throughout the market section of town. Smaller selection, more irregular quality, not quite as clean, but cheaper prices. The final step down is the market stalls and guys with wheelbarrows selling only one or two goods. No selection, very irregular quality, clearly unhygienic (especially the meat), but you cannot beat the prices. Every once in a while you seen a crystal clear example of the tradeoff between cost and other factors (convenience/selection/cleanliness) and it was interesting to see it laid out so clearly. Unsurprisingly, the vast majority of people in Maseru patronize some mixture of the Chinese-groceries and stalls, trying to stretch what they have as far as it will go.

Feeling a bit unsafe

Over the weekend I went on a road trip with a friend to a village in the mountains called Semonkong. The lodge in the town was lovely with amazing food, great staff, and a really good vibe. The drawing feature of Semonkong is a gorgeous waterfall which you can either hike to the bottom of or, if you are feeling adventurous, absail (repel) to the base of. Guess which I did? I am now the proud holder of a certificate testifying that I have done the highest commercial absail in the world, 204 meters. I was a bit worried that it would not be exciting, that having a full harness would cut into the adrenalin factor. I need not have worried, for after getting over the lip and finding myself hanging free ~600 ft from the base of a huge waterfall, I got quite a rush. See the little red dot in the second picture? That's me!