The upcoming 2011 Reunion is a chance to catch up with each other but also to connect with PCV's celebrating one of the most important experiences of our lives. I hope to see us all come togther .
September 21-25, 2011 Washington DC
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This photo taken at our our COS conference April 1982, click to enlarge. |
| Delton Allen | Brad Gamble | Brent Schaeffer |
| Joel & Sherry Hellenkamp | Michael Metzler | |
| Chip & Linda Henry | ||
Mom and Dad Visit Lesotho Thirteen bodies aboard, our taxi lurches
ahead, Mom and Dad in front of me.
Passengers press against seat backs
or scoot forward, fannies teetering
on the edge, as speakers blast Sotho reggae.
Cinder block houses bunch near streets,
two boys prod a wandering cow. Leaving
Maseru, the highway twists through brown
hills, aloe vera towers tall as man.
The minivan swerves on a gravel road,
Dad grips the arm rest, his bald head
emerges by the window. Wobbly suspension,
mud and dung huts, water buckets balanced
on women's heads--I want to leap
the seat to discover their first
impressions and steal the newness.
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Delton Allen sent me some items to scan for his Bio and one piece was this 4 page PC handout produced about 1981. Delton's picture is on the front with his 4H group. The other names and faces and accompaning text was so fun to see that I turned it into a downloadable PDF. >>Check it out!
Lesotho was children saying in English,
“Good morning, madam, five cents, please,”
and Lesotho was explaining
to high school students
why Americans don’t have a totem
or pay a bride price.
Lesotho was viewing A Man for All Seasons
at the cinema with the reels out of order,
and Lesotho was observing protocol in court
wearing a dust rag on my head
since I forgot a head scarf.
Lesotho was a toothless woman
praying for my health
with a twig held over me,
and Lesotho was a village chief
providing shelter from a cloudburst.
Lesotho was feeling the pulse of the earth
washing my hair in a fresh rain puddle
or hiking until parched enough to drink warm Coke,
and Lesotho was drumming the rhythm
of rain and drought.
Lesotho was singing the song of life
with children, at weddings, at funerals,
and Lesotho was dancing the dance of life
at the disco, the vender’s market
while tilling the soil.
In Lesotho, the singer never stops singing
and in Lesotho, the dancer never stops dancing.
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That's my youngest son Kebadire in one of the pictures. The drive from Hlotse over the mountain pass to the Highland's water scheme was absolutely gorgeous, particularly with peach trees in full bloom lower down. |
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Back Row: Linda, Chip, Adam, Robin, Rich, Lee, Pat (hiding), Jenny, Michael-Chris, Brad, Paul, Jeannette, Mike M., Franceen, Joel Front Row: Jacob, Sherry, Collette, Cherry, Sally, Jillian, Mike S. Nate, Cale, Nellie, Frank