my time here is flying and it seems unbelievable. Before I know it I will be stateside, lost and confused. I have been extremely busy so I have not written any funny stories. Yesterday I went to the police station to file a report and I swear I have never seen such incompetent people.

I walked in and one of the police officers was flirting with me and it felt so uncomfortable the moment he put his hand on my bicep. I had to ask him to stop being so friendly, which didn’t go over so well. After he walked away, the other “police” officer asked to borrow my pen so she could start taking my statement. I thought, a police station without a pen, hmm, I wonder if they are even equipped to arrest. Anyhow, I looked beyond these things and tried to be as patient and professional as possible but once I saw that my statement began with, “I am Tarsha Veiga, I live around Lesotho, I am literate….” I realized that the entire ordeal was a joke. Once the “officer” finished writing my half coherent statement, I got to sign the bottom. It seemed wrong to sign a police report that was written out on ripped piece of notebook paper. When I asked for a copy of the report the police officer and his colleagues didn’t seem to understand what I was seeking for. I then asked if they had a copy machine and everyone seemed to be confused so instead of getting a carbon copy or a machine copy, I got a ripped piece of paper with my case number and a Lesotho stamp.  I then walked away baffled.

At this point, I have to make another trip to the same police station and possibly write my own statement and get a Lesotho stamp so that Peace Corps can file my report. I really haven’t a clue. I am exhausted and am ready to go back to my site to work on the HIV project.

It is 15 days until my bday. Crazy to think that I am going to be 28 years old. Oh, how time flies.

Keep smiling. I’ll see you all in just a few months time. Tarsha

ADDENDUM

12:23 I arrive at the police station for the 2^nd time in 2 days and ask for said gentleman. at which point, I am told that he is on lunch and I must return at 2pm. knowing that lunch begins at 1pm here, I persist and tell them that he is expecting me. I am only speaking in English at this point and, to belittle me, they speak in Sesotho, but since I understand just enough to get around, I proceed down the hallway to an unknown office and open a door that has “claims report” above. I entered and the Ntate is, in fact, expecting me. I greet all the men sitting in the small over stuffed hot room and am ordered to take a seat. We exchange greetings and I try to hurry the gentlemen along by telling them that this matter is highly important and I must leave with a police report. I am then escorted to another room where I am ordered to sit. Two men speak about my case and one goes off to make COPIES. At this point, I am thinking, copies, no way, it can’t be. But the gentleman come back with TWO photocopies of my report.

Yesterday, I was told that they did not have a copier and today I am shown that a copier does exist. I am baffled by the incompetence of “professional” workers in this country. in my opinion, too many are too lazy and all do not have any understanding of customer service. If this is how their justice system functions, then no other department can function in this country. Are they taught to be lazy or are they born this way?