Gabs week three. The rotten apple.

Culture shock, since I have arrived, has been explained to me as this: imagine you have never eaten an apple, or perhaps you have never eaten a really good apple. So the first time you have it, it is so delicious and exciting and crisp and new- but you keep eating the apple and eventually you find a mushy spot and then a worm and then you don’t want apples anymore.

If last week seemed insane this week was insanity squared.

My first social-cultural conflict has come from literally having the issue of sexuality come up every day and experiencing the majority of Batswana ready and eager to claim “there are no gay people in Botswana,” or rather acknowledge the presence of gay people but claim something to the likes of “its a phase” or “...well...lesbians are okay...”  It has been the single cultural difference that I can not (or rather have chosen not) to be respectful of(?), delicate with(?), I am not quite sure how to phrase it, my point is that I am equally ready to state there are in fact many gay people in Bots and I am excited to befriend any and all of them. When I recently explained to a classmate that the neighborhood I come from is not only tolerant but often celebratory of queer communities she gasped and looked shocked then added, “well...I did like Brokeback Mountain.”

As part of our program here with CIEE we are required to do an extensive research project on any cultural aspect of Botswana and I have chosen to do mine (with my pals Rachel and Monica) on the visible intolerance and underlying cultural values that (are trying to) insist on a solely heterosexual society. It is clearly the human rights issue. 7 years in prison is the minimum punishment if you are caught with a partner of the same gender but there is a huge underground scene. They asked us not to get political but I think it might be great to get (at least a little) political.

Political action is one of the main reasons I am trying so desperately to work for Emang Basadi, which translates to ‘stand up women!’ I had a preliminary interview them on Tuesday. However, when I showed up, after a TWO hour walk to find it, the director decided to cancel. This was fine as it was a nice walk and because it only took me about 12 minutes to find it (walking)Wednesday.

A little aside about the two hours, no one here uses street names or cardinal directions so my map is a moot point. All directions are given via land marks, I called to ask what street the NGO was on because I was at such and such intersection and I had a map to which she said “ok ok take a left when you find the big church then at the third robot go right and keep going,” "ok but what street are you on?" "Just keep going." Robot = stop light e.g. 'Stop there's a red robot!'

My interview went very well. They are very involved with the legislative process in Botswana, some really interesting community out reach working with domestic violence prevention and they have a subdivision called WAR, Women Against Rape. I was super excited until they said they could not have me volunteer because they didn’t have an office for me. Despite explaining I did not need an office they seemed pretty set on their decision to not let me volunteer. I found out a few nights later that volunteer work does not necessarily mean unpaid-I am going tomorrow to explain I don't require monetary compensation.

As previously mentioned the immigration errand of Friday was most defs not a quick endeavor. All international students were to meet in the main quad at 9:30 am. I returned to my room at 2 pm. The most important detail of the whole day is that I did not speak to anyone, show anyone any sort of identification, sign any papers; all I did was hand in a preprinted form that asked for an extension and then wait. AND I didn’t even hand the form in, someone else just passed it forward! After passing my form, I sat and ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with my international posse for four hours. Still I was, I guess, appreciative of my picnic lunch.

I am learning here that my daily schedule can not be the same. There is no way to have back to back meetings or long to do lists because everything takes much much much more time. What it means to be productive is very different and that is both incredibly difficult and frustrating and very healing. How I understand and appreciate time is changing drastically.

The administrative pride of the university is a recent installment of a great clock tower on the new student center in the main quad.  The time on the clock is 17 minutes off.

People use the saying here, T.I.A. which is basically a hybrid of c’est la vie and S.O.L. It means “this is Africa,” and is reserved for moments where things go far from planned-which has been most moments. There are certainly lots of T.I.A. worthy instances, just in this very moment my friend Adam, from Sweden asked if I wanted to share headphones to listen to some Swedish music, I asked if he minded that it would be all the way in my ear (since they are those sort of headphones) to which he replied, “What does it matter, there is no hygiene here anyway.”Which is true.

While it is easy to throw around, the T.I.A. especially sans hot water and after times like what occurred at immigration, I can’t decide if I think it has the same charming take-life-as-it-comes sort of feel as c’est la vie or if the continental specificity of it makes it defeatist and very sad.

Apart from the obvious lack of toilet paper, internet, hygienic processes etc, I feel the only way I can adequately describe the vibe of a developing nation is as an individual who aspires to be a cool kid.  I am not at all attempting to say that the developed world is cool and the lesser developed community is the uncool. It is just that there are certain elements of the developed world that Botswana so badly wishes to emulate and it does not seem to matter at what cost. 

And like the person you know who readily name drops every Wes Anderson movie they have seen, Botswana is ready to let you know it is just as western, just as cool, but ultimately said friend has only seen "most of Rushmore"** and ultimately Botswana possess very limited  infrastructure to physically, economically or socially support development. The most shocking/interesting/crazy thing is seeing which ‘cool’ attributes Botswana is opting to absorb. It is very difficult to find places in which tradition is maintained and progress supported.

But alas I have found one of those pockets within the University of Botswana poetry society. Every Wednesday UB hosts an event (?) club (?) featuring poetry, spoken word,  free style raps, slam poetry an open mic (minus the mic) type thing and it is really fantastic. People openly expressing really interesting, introspective progressive things and consistently paying homage to the Batswana culture all of this accompanied by some rad hip-hop. It is going to be a good place.

Batsi told us from the beginning that culture is like an ant hill (this is the African equivalent to the iceberg metaphor) though you can see a lot about the surface that is only 1/7 of the ant colony. So while some ways of life seem so frustrating, we must get to know the 6/7 of culture that lies below and explains those ways of life. Perhaps it is a bit trite, or obvious, and perhaps I am using too many analogies (alas it is the culture here) but it is definitely something that is preserving my patience.

I have not seen one cloud or felt one drop of rain.

To a Motswana, pula means more than just the water but it means luck, love and life- really just everything. I have learned how important rain is for me and my little heart too. I am excited that me and my Batswana friends are equally anticipating the rainy times.

Working on food still. Not a lot of "fresh" things,  I have a new love for iceberg lettuce. Add KingCone to the list of ice cream treats enjoyed. Also mexican pizza (you crumble your own nachos on top) is quite delicious.

Camping came with lots of excitement and lots of good food. Everything from traditional tribal court, Kgotla-to the Manayana rock art. The rock paintings are located in an area at the base of the Tsodilo and Kolobeng Hills some 35km to the west of Gabs, they are two thousand years old and pretty rad. The giraffe paintings were my favorite.

BUT more exciting than the rock art giraffes was the giraffe duo sitting in the grass this weekend!

At night it is so dark and there are so many stars, standing on a hill in the desert in Kanye it literally looks as if there are stars at knee level, no looking up, just out. That has maybe been my most favorite moment so far.

I really like how here you can tell how round the earth is and the moon wanes and waxes from bottom to top instead of left to right, so it always looks like a cheshire smile.

I guess I am just saying there were some mushy spots this week, but I am still in awe with everything and I am ready to have all the misadventures this country can offer me.


This weekend, camping in the Makgadikgadi salt pans.

Also Fleetwood Mac’s video* for “Everywhere” is playing in the cafe I am in currently so I will take that as a good omen.

Perhaps this entry is disjointed and I am sorry. I think it is reflecting some of the craziness so at least you know it’s honest.

Miss miss miss you.
Love love love
waka waka its time for Afrika.***

Jackie



*This video is nuts, youtube it.
**My apologies for this rather extended and rather silly comparison
*** I have heard this song 4 times in the last hour.