#12 2025 in Review

Hello everyone! It’s that time again, when my guilt for not writing one of these posts outweighs my laziness. I have some work developments, a 2025 Recap, and as per usual, some funny stories. Let’s get into it.

Work has been going well since I last wrote. I have continued with my limited schedule at the clinic, only going in for two mornings per week. The clinic has a new Pharmacy Technician, Kgosi, who is now both a close friend. I have started looking forward to going in to the clinic on those mornings because I know I will get to be working with someone who has drive and passion about what he is doing every day. Together we have organized and cleaned everything having to do with dispensing pills, so I finally feel as if I’ve done something beneficial for the clinic.

If I’m not at the Craft Shop, which you know all about, I’m working with Lorato, who is the social worker for several villages in the surrounding area. I’m helping her digitize her records and sitting in on her meetings with people who come asking for help. She is tasked with many difficult jobs from counseling to managing the destitution (unemployment) program. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know her more and learn more about social work as a career. Here in my community it is easier to serve others by working with Lorato than by working at the clinic.

In the middle of November the Craft Shop and I finally started the woodworking club that I mentioned in the last blog post. It was super fun to teach, and amazing to watch the kids learn. We only had a few sessions, but we will resume when school starts in late January after their summer break. So far we have taught sustainable harvesting of trees, the parts of a tree that are good for woodworking, the tools we are using, and the basics of making spoons. I really enjoy teaching, and especially enjoy teaching kids how to make something with their own hands. I’m looking forward to restarting the sessions and continuing to work with these kids.

In Early November my new-found Uncle John came to visit me. While he isn’t my real uncle, per se, our relationship translates to that of uncle and nephew here in Botswana. Uncle John, also known as “the Planetwalker” was an amazing person to have stay with me for a couple days. He just finished his first leg of a ‘planetwalk’ from Cape Town, SA, to Cairo, Egypt. He did a bit of traveling around Botswana after reaching the southern border, and was able to spend some time here with me. We did all the typical activities—going to the Craft Shop for tea, watching the sunset at the boat station, whiling away hours on my couch—all while getting to know each other for the first time. While at the boat station watching the sunset, we lapsed into a comfortable silence. John worked on a watercolor of the Delta, as I dissected every layer of sound I could hear: the wind, the birds, the insects, the murmurs of other people, the rustle of the reeds, the distant coughing of a hippo. As the sun set I focused on the water in front of me, where dragonflies and fish worked together to create interwoven circles on the rippling water. We walked most of the way home in silence, appreciating the rest of the world, together. That evening was, and remains very special to me.

I highly encourage you all to look into his organization, Planetwalk, and the message it brings to the world. Right now we need someone like John walking around and spreading love and kindness. Yes, it seems a bit cheesy when I say it like that, but the passion and care that John goes about every day with makes his mission incredibly impactful, especially with kids. Here is a link to his website: https://planetwalk.org

I spent the first weekend of December in Maun attending two Christmas Craft Markets with the Craft Shop. We had a lot of fun, made important contacts with large customers in Maun, and sold several large crafts, including one XL bowl for P2000. That’s about $140! We spent most of the weekend finishing the crafts we had brought that were not done yet; multiple nights in a row of staying up late sanding and carving sitting on the floor. On the last night however, we went to a hotel with a pool, went to dinner at the Okavango Brewing Company, and had some drinks sitting by the pool afterwards. My friend Connie, another PC volunteer who lives close to Maun, stayed with us and taught Tsalano how to swim that afternoon. It was a great, albeit tiring, weekend.

During the holiday season everything winds down here. December and most of January in Botswana is known by many different names, typically ‘festive’ in my part of the country, and is primarily a time to visit family and relax. This is taken to such an extreme that little to no work is done for almost two months, and everyone just sits around with their extended family, who have traveled home. Funnily, the actual holidays (Christmas and New Year’s, as they are Christian) are not of that much importance. I had a large (50+ people) family gathering on Christmas day and not a single person even mentioned ‘Christmas’. How odd! Starting a new year is a bit more recognized, but I had forgotten how uncelebrated Christmas is here. Add the fact that it feels like a hot day in August, and it doesn’t even feel like Christmas. I don’t reallymind, to tell you the truth, because being somewhere that really felt like Christmas and the holidays would make me miss all of you even more.

Speaking of holidays, I had a nice Thanksgiving with two other volunteers. Phoebe and Connie, the two volunteers living the closest to me, came for a few days to celebrate and see my village. Phoebe, who I have mentioned before, lives pretty close, but Connie is about 12 hours away by bus. We cooked all kinds of food, from apple turnovers to fried chicken to mashed potatoes and gravy. It was nice to spend some extended time with other volunteers, my friends, who understand exactly what it is like to be here. We were even serenaded at the boat station while watching the sunset by a random guy with a guitar, which was interesting. He sang “Country Roads” by John Denver. Take a minute to really picture that: we’re sitting on a dock above the Okavango Delta, a ~12 hour trip from the nearest town, two+ full days of travel away from home, and someone starts playing “Country Roads.” And it was a sing-a-long! How funny.

Before I talk all about books and movies and my Best of 2025 stuff, I have some quick fun stories to share:

I went yesterday to collect wood in the bush for the craft shop (I know, how do these trips always go wrong?). We went in the new car that Tsalano bought for the Craft Shop. A few miles out into the bush on a small track, all hell broke loose. As we were driving, the front of the car suddenly lifted a foot off the ground with a loud sound, slammed back down, and then went quiet. Stunned, Kenny, Tsalano, and I sat there in the ensuing silence for a few seconds before cautiously getting out of the car. After a quick inspection, we realized a stump had gotten caught underneath the car and broken the exhaust pipe. That is a day-ender, even if you aren’t miles into the bush without any cell service. After a quick tea break, I helped Kenny tie the exhaust up underneath the car with a chopped up spare engine belt. We made it about 100 yards before a horrible grinding noise started, and the real problems began. After a solid amount of scooching and craning and flinching, we finally found the issue way underneath the car: the broken exhaust pipe was scraping on the drive shaft as it rotated the back wheels. Now if I hadn’t been there myself and actually seen it, I would have zero idea what that means. Never fear! I’ll simplify for my fellow mechanically ignorant folks: it warranted a “big mathata” in Setswana, or “that ain’t good” in English. We spent the next few hours driving five minutes, stopping to retie everything back together, which required both Kenny and I to be fully under the car, and then driving again. We did make it back home in one piece, but instead of collecting wood we damaged the car, learned how a car’s exhaust functions, and rolled around in sand for a few hours! What a day.

Some of you have heard about (and some of you have bought!) Elephant baskets from the WWF catalogue. Every year WWF puts together a big catalogue of art from around the world, specifically focused on helping those living with wildlife or working directly with wildlife. Seronga Craft Shop organizes the sale of about 400 baskets to WWF from old women in the Eastern Okavango Panhandle. It’s quite the ordeal here, collecting, organizing, packing, and sending 400 baskets. I find it hilarious that these special elephant themed baskets woven by old ladies in rural Botswana and bought by well intentioned people in the U.S. also go through my hands, a 23y/o Peace Corps volunteer. I’m sure they aren’t picturing that part. I know they advertise through their holiday mailer, but unfortunately I have not found anywhere online to purchase the baskets.

Back in November I went to a crocodile farm, cleverly named the Krokavango Croc Farm. They had so many crocs, and gave us a full tour of the entire place. They farm the younger ones for their skin and meat, and only let select few grow to be full size. Amazingly, adult crocs can live up to 120 years old, and get grow to a whopping 20 feet long. They are beautiful creatures, and when you get a close look their scales literally act like a suit of armor. Sadly, there have been a few (5+) crocodile related deaths in the area in the last few months. Every now and then there is news that another person is missing following an incident on the bank of the river, and that authorities are looking for them. I am staying well clear of the water from now on, and it is really hitting home how crazy it was that I swam last year.

The weather was crazy for a while here. This is the rainy season, and boy oh boy did the rain come this year. We had a solid 10 days before Christmas with little to no sunlight, just clouds and rain. It was amazing, frankly, because the heat was very bearable and I could walk around all day without getting sunburned. We didn’t get as much rain last year; all the rain means more standing water, which means more mosquitos and worse road conditions. The few friends I’ve had visit me are all suffering through five hour trips to get here from Shakawe, a drive that usually takes three hours (it is 60 miles). Recently there has been a little more optimism about the prospects of the road getting paved. Rumor has it that the government has allocated money for surveys and contract bids, etc. I cannot fathom the impact that a paved road would have on this community; reducing the drive by four hours to get to the hospital, grocery store that actually sells vegetables, government services, building supplies, etc. I really hope that it does get done eventually.

As part of the woodworking club preparations we hired a local blacksmith to make some tool blades. When we went to pick them up he showed us his forge, which was absolutely incredible. He had crafted a working bellows (the thing that blows air into the heart of the fire) from a couple of old pots, some tarp, two sticks, and a piece of pipe. It was one of the most ingenious things I have ever seen.

2025 In Review

I had a lot of time to spend on my hobbies this year. Mostly it took the form of talking with friends and family, reading, and watching movies. I read 40 books, listened to 48,000 minutes of music, and watched 192 movies. Well. When you sum it all up like that it certainly sounds odd doesn’t it? I love keeping track of all these things, but it does seem a bit … depressing when I look at the end numbers. Saying “I read 40 books” doesn’t do any of the books I read justice. It doesn’t tell you that I cried at the end of A Little Life and while watching Oppenheimer. It doesn’t convey the depths and heights of emotion that I travelled over countless pages and stories. In a small effort to combat this flattening, this truncation of my life into three numbers (which I myself have collected and placed here for you all, yes I see the irony), I am going to give you my Best of 2025 list.

As everything in life should, let us start with books. My favorite book of the year was The Brother’s K by David James Duncan. I mentioned in the last blog post that this was a contender for my favorite book ever, and I haven’t changed that opinion despite contrary reviews from two of my favorite book people. After ample consideration, also known as talking on the phone with Charlie Gillmer, which you should all do, I realized that one of the reasons The Brothers K influenced me so strongly was how much I saw myself in two of the brothers. The oldest, Everrett, ends up in a remote village in Canada heartbroken and living by himself. Peter, the smart one, realizes that he spent his entire life trying desperately to travel the world without realizing he had what he was looking for right in front of him. Those are two gross simplifications—please, just go read the book—but the connections between the characters in the book and their experiences mirrored my own to the point of making a great book fantastic.

Three other brief mentions in the book category: A Little Life by Hanya Yanigihara, Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver, and Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. All three are pretty serious, and believe you me I spaced them out with a lot of beach reads and old favorites. I love reading for the human experiences; exploring things we go through and ways that the world is experienced by people from all over the world. These three books are some of the best writing that I have ever read, combined with incredible stories and some really insightful thinking. I highly recommend all four books. Reading reminds me how much conflict and suffering is out there in the world (sad) and how it is possible to work through our problems, solve issues, and live until tomorrow (happy). In these tough times I look to books for happiness and encouragement, and usually find it where I am not expecting it.

It’s a little harder to narrow down the movies. I watched the Lord of the Rings movies for the first time: amazing. Not exactly the books, but still pretty good. Joker, Killers of the Flower Moon, Nickel Boys, and A Real Pain all follow the same ideas as my thoughts on the books. Gladiator 2 was a disgrace, and I hesitate to even put it on here as I was forced, simply forced, to stop watching halfway through.

Agh! There are simply so many good movies out there. I’m adding Past Lives, Anora, Fences, and Conclave to the list. I do the same thing with movies as I do books, where I watch something serious and then watch two or three funny, light movies to prepare for the next serious one. I laughed a lot, but none of the lighter movies really spoke to me this year.

I had a lot of fun exploring new music in 2025. I listen to a lot of quiet music, so honestly my “exploring new music” doesn’t mean anything crazy, just a lot of different artists in one small slice of the music world. I listened to a lot of Mumford and Sons, Adele, the Lumineers, and (embarrassingly) Zach Bryan. I’m currently loving Alan Gogoll, who has a great name and was recommended by my friend Edd. That’s a win-win in my book. I can’t wait to go to some concerts when I get back home; I’ve been to a few celebrations and events with singing and dancing here and every time I am reminded of how much I love it. Music on my phone has nothing on live music.

I was lucky enough to have a host of people visit me here in rural Botswana (think Lambert Lake for you East Coast folks, shoutout to Curtis, or Thunder Bay for you Minnesotans in terms of remoteness). Family, friends, and other PCVs visited me this year and we did all manner of things together: meeting my host family here in the village, meeting the Kgosi (village Chief), watching sunsets at the boat station, spending a night at the cattle post, playing cards, sitting by the fire, watching movies, going to canoe races, and plenty more. Although I didn’t get to see everyone, I truly appreciate those who came so far to see me. I loved every second of hosting you, and hope to meet you all somewhere just as exciting soon.

Best meals is actually surprisingly easy, as I had so many nights cooking for myself that anything else was spectacular. Now I won't get into the weeds here, as one could, but a meal is more than just the food, especially in the Bayley family. A good meal needs to be with good people, hopefully in a fun or meaningful place, and have good food. One of these categories, if experienced in excess, may cover the deficiences of another. The best meal, which excelled in all categories, was a dinner I had with my family when they were visiting. As they tend to do when we are together, this meal was near four hours if you include the drink we got at the bar before hand. This particular one, which was in Cape Town, checked all the boxes: great food, the best people, hilarious conversation (concerning leftovers), and absolutely zero worries. Working my way down the list, I had a lot of fun cooking and eating with other volunteers who visited me here in my village (July 4^th, Thanksgiving, and New Years), braiing with my friends, and Saturday night meals with my little host-brother. A great year of eating, in which I learned a lot about myself and my relationship with food.

And my final story. You all know how much I don’t want to write this. Sadly, I am compelled to inform you of the latest in the Bat Adventures. Here ya go:

I was working out in the living room when I heard louder than normal chirping. Cautiously peeking my head into the other rooms, I was devastated (I do not say that lightly) to discover a bat hanging down into my bedroom. I have spent the better part of a year fervently hoping that the slight crack in the crown moulding above my bed was too small for a bat to fit through. This bat had tried to prove me wrong, and make his way down into my room through the crack, but had gotten stuck halfway. His front half was in my bedroom and his back half was behind the moulding. Summoning all my courage, I grabbed a broom, walked into the room, shoved my bed out of the way, and….chickened out.

All I could see in my mind was the bat swooping down into my face, causing instant death. So I made a tactical retreat, and surveyed my options. If only I had a tennis ball, or baseball, so I could throw it instead of getting close with a broom,I thought. Fresh out of tennis balls and baseballs, I started looking for alternatives: apple? Gonna explode everywhere and I don’t want that. Shoe? Inaccurate. Potato? Mm. Now there is an idea. Aha, a good idea! The humble spud.

Grabbing two from the kitchen, I walked my ass back into the death chamber bed room, summoned my inner Bert Blyleven, and flung the potato at the bat. Success! Not a direct hit, but definite damage done. I threw the second potato for good measure, and then waited a few minutes to make sure it was really dead. After a few minutes blood started dripping out of its mouth, making a decorative vertical red line on my wall. Finally, after a lot of swearing, power walking aroundto build confidence, and shaking, I was able to get the bat unstuck (it made a soft plop as it hit the ground), put it in a dustpan, and throw it far away. This was in early November, and luckily I haven’t had any issues sense. I believe the bats that fly around my house every night have realized that to enter my inner sanctum is to ensure a violent death, and thus are staying away.

That is about all that I have! This might be my longest post ever, so I thank you all for sticking through to the end. I wish you all the happiest of New Years. Sending my love to you all.

Nick