To Catch a Thief.....

This blog is the result of pent up frustrations..... Proceed with caution...


Back in September, when I returned from training, I came home to a clean house. Living in Botswana marks one of the first times I've ever lived completely on my own. There is no longer anyone to blame my mess on, to nag about buying toilet paper when it runs out, or to help me remember where I put any number of items I'm prone to misplacing. Along with having to cook for myself (although really, thank God for Simon cause he takes care of a ton in this particular category) and clean up after myself, but also realize the beauty of a clean house after returning home after time away.

Despite the cleanliness after being away for a few weeks I found myself having a difficult time finding things. There seemed to be less cash around than I remembered hiding and locking behind doors and in drawers. I could have sworn I left some booze in the house. When I couldn't find my CD player which was the only thing providing me any sense of normalcy. I felt a fist of discomfort gripping my stomach. Someone had been in my house.

I had followed all the Peace Corps safety and security measures. I had put anything of value out of sight, locked everything behind cupboard doors and put the keys away. I had taken my laptop with me, but the more I looked around the more stuff I realized was missing. Trying to remain calm, which has been the most successful course of action I've found in these situations, I began to make a list of all the things I could remember as previously being here.

There had been no sign of forced entry. I knew that my landlord had the key, this seemed standard from my experience with landlords. I had even smiled and encouraged the girl that was my age who lived on my compound to feel free to charge her cell phone on the solar battery in my place whenever she needed to (in my attempt at neighborly friendliness). I hadn't seen her around when I returned home, which narrowed the suspect list. On the compound in which I live there were somewhere between 2 and 5 young teenagish boys that often play loud traditional music at obnoxious hours of the day and night. It was these boys I found myself confronting after "making a plan" and attempting to calm myself down from the rage and irritation I felt running through me. To accuse someone of stealing in Botswana is a serious deal, and it's made more so due to the fact that my family compound is owned by the sister of the Kgosi (chief) which makes things exceptionally difficult as involving the police then becomes a big problem. To have someone come into my house, with their key, as my landlords, in a foreign country and steal from me as I am living in their community, volunteering to try and help was a new level of low and betrayal for me.

So. I went to the door of the building of the compound that was showing the most signs of life. I greeted the boys with my best attempt at politeness and ungritted teeth with the usual greetings and informed the oldest person there (which ended up being the boyfriend of the sister on the compound whom I usually trusted) that some of my things were "missing" and that perhaps someone had "borrowed" them, but that I needed them back, "now now."

The next morning I opened my door to find three of the things I had realized I was missing as well as four things I hadn't yet discovered were missing. I informed the boyfriend guy that some things had been returned, but that I was still missing many of my things. He looked at the shoe prints in the sand outside my house and agreed that it was, indeed, the boys.

After realizing that indeed someone had been in my place while I was gone and stolen from me (most of the stuff had been locked out of sight) I tried to figure out what I hadn't yet discovered was missing. I don't know if you've ever been through a similar experience, or could ever realize what you have in your home at any given time, but I was having a tough time. I figured I was missing somewhere in the neighborhood of 500 pula (I usually had to have lots of cash on hand as the nearest bank is a flight away at Maun) -this was my best estimate- and there had been several times over the last month when I would be looking for my cash and be sure that there had been more there than currently was there. This is around a third of my monthly allowance. I was also missing some jewelery, batteries, food, random electronics, American cash, ect, ect, ect.

Things continued to reappear, generally at my prompting (read threatening)- mentioning that I would eventually need to go to the police, that Peace Corps would step in, so on, so forth. I sat down with the daughter (her mother is the Kgosi's sister has been there maybe twice since I've lived there) and her boyfriend and the boys. It was a highly unsatisfying meeting in which the boys smirked at me the whole time, and the sister gave her best impression of embarrassment. They admitted that the boys had taken the stuff, I encouraged them to search their rooms again for any additional stuff and was appalled at the amount of pens, nailpolish, plug adaptors and general loot that came out of there. I was trying my hardest to give them the benefit of the doubt and to trust that their sense of right and wrong and perhaps a sense of shame over their behavior would kick in, and in many ways I'm still waiting. I had hoped that I could trust them to just be honest about whether they had stolen anything else, and I've since discovered that they were actually capable of looking directly into my eyes and lying to me. We arranged a repayment plan, and I extracted a promise that they would replace the items that were eaten and drank.

I informed the Peace Corps and they have been working on continuously following up with the landlord, who is now there even less than before. Things have gotten a bit awkward as I have repeatedly had to ask them both for my things back, as well as to install the burglar bars they promised to install after the crazy dude came to my door in August. The guy had come to install them and put them on the wrong building completely. My solar battery has also been steadily dying (something that the district has told me is the landlords responsibility as they pay 300 pula per month for rent-which is supposed to include water and electric for that price) and I'm down to less than an hour of electric light at night, that of course is if I don't have to charge anything or don't try to hook my ipod up to the solar battery inverter to listen to some tunes. It's an either or type situation.

It's all been exceedingly awkward and unpleasant as time (and the deadlines in which they promised to repay me) have passed. I try to be polite and not have every interaction we have be about the stuff, but they began to treat me as though I was the one who had stolen from them when I would ask for my money. I've looked around the village and inquired as to options for other housing, on the police compound (full time electricity from the loud generator--- so worth it) there are no openings, the clinic can't even house their doctors. The school teachers are doubled up sharing and so there is no hope there. My options are...non-existent.

In mid December the Peace Corps called me with a report from the landlord that they were planning on evicting me at the end of the month, a report of which, of course no one had made to me. Among my alleged infringements were that I was not happy there based on how much time I spent at Simon's in the evening for dinner, as well as the fact that I was not feeding and taking care of the dog they had "given me for protection"(and who has incidentally lived there for at least as long as the previous Peace Corps before me). There was a laundry list of other things that together just ended up proving to me that I am not as wonderfully integrated into this culture as I had previously thought. The Peace Corps safety and security officer (who deserves a raise just for all the shit he has had to deal with as a result of my issues) came up and negotiated with the landlords so that it sounds like I can stay. The last I had heard they were saying they hadn't yet been paid from June (which isn't completely true as the PCV at the district office told me he has been seeing the expense reports for my housing and checks going through). More excitement sure to follow as I get back site.

I write this blog mostly as something to be included in what will end up being my record of the whole of my experience here. I'm not really incredibly bothered on an intense level about it on a daily basis about it, I'd just like this aspect of my daily life and Peace Corps living situation to be definitively over. It's been a long drawn out process, and at the end of the day, yes, it's just stuff. I'm eating the value of a quite a bit of stuff in relation to the way I live here, and it's just annoying. I'm more bothered by the lack of shame or personal responsibility I've seen from the people who are supposed to be my "family" here and taking care of me. My emotions on the whole thing go from rage and hurt to the sensation of a blunt sliver that's been stuck in the bottom of my foot to the point of infection, it's just really annoying and I want to be done with the situation and through with the awkward negotiations. I'm sorry to say that it has really been one of the things that has given me a sour taste about this culture, and yes I realize you don't make generalizations based on isolated incidents, but really, I am not their first Peace Corps Volunteer living on the property, and after speaking with the one who lived there before me he had his suspicions as well. The whole thing falls under the umbrella of "things I wish were different but aren't" at this point, life goes on, ect, ect. Whatever.