SENSITIVE

I’ve been told that I am too sensitive. On many fronts I am sure this is true, I ought not worry when children laugh at my white skin or take sweeping comments about America personally. However, there are some things that I never want to become desensitized to.
At the moment my school is closed for two weeks due to violence. The second year students hazed a first year student so badly they almost killed him. After being filled in on the previous night's battering, I felt ill at our morning assembly. The students came singing and dancing to the assembly as if nothing had happened. I gave them icy stares unable to give a speech on the sanctity and value of human life in my limited Sesotho.
Later that day I was expressing my horror at the situation to a colleague and he just laughed, commenting that if you have enough money to buy a cow and a coffin for the funeral, you can kill anyone you want in Lesotho. My jaw dropped, and I clammed up too appalled and upset to formulate words.
Death is an everyday occurrence in Lesotho. HIV has greatly aided in making this a reality. Violence and fighting are accepted in my rural area as “part of the culture.” There have been many attitudes that I’ve had to change to make life here in Lesotho possible for an American. I reflected on my own views of death and violence and what those which I’ve experienced in Lesotho. This is one time I have no desire to change. Life is too precious in my book, and this is one instance when “culture” will not be an acceptable answer.