I have been neglecting the blog – I know. It’s been impossible to gather my thoughts into one solid post. I just have so many things on my mind. However, I do have some things to share about Setswana culture in Gaborone (want to properly pronounce it like a Motswana? “G” like a “J” in Spanish and an accent on the “e” at the end – good luck with that).
Beverages:
The most absurd thing I have come across was the fact that it is apparently “too cold” to be drinking water. I was talking to a girl here, and she could not get over the fact that we are all drinking water. Now, as for what you are supposed to be drinking since it is “cold,” I’m still searching. One thing is for sure, Fanta is everywhere! Literally, everyone drinks it. They even sell it on the streets. (Popular items for street vendors: some local food, LOTS of candies, airtime also known as minutes for your cellphone, and soda pop). Some people drink ginger beer which is actually a British thing I am told, but it’s not as popular. Sadly, coffee is not a hot commodity here. I can get it. My favorite place so far is a little café called Mug and Bean at a mall in Gaborone. It sells coffee, but it’s just not the same. People would rather have their Fanta… or alcohol. Oh Dunkin’ Donuts iced coffee, how I dream of you!
Special is not so Special:
Take note. You do not want to be special in Gaborone. So far it has only led to bad things. Never accept a cab, taxi (yes there is a difference that I haven’t exactly figured out yet), or combi when the driver mentions special. Typically, special is a good thing, but this is actually code for “I’m about to screw you over.” Special involves extreme, over-priced hassles. I feel like “Stupid Americans” are running through their heads the whole time these guys are harassing me to take their “special.” Guess what y’all? This girl isn’t stupid anymore; she has caught on to your ploys. I’m taking the combi! or taxis/cabs without "special" fares. I have successfully managed to figure out the combi routes and such. (high-five to me) While I still stick to my public buses suck opinion, they are still the best, cheapest way to get around. It still takes some time to get around though. Traffic here is horrendous!
Personal Space:
Oh right, there is none. On the combis there is never personal space. I can only imagine how awful it is in the summer time with hot, sweaty, super smelly, people crammed on one combi (because they seriously cram you in there. It can hold up to 18 plus the driver sometimes we cram more). Ugh, I am so thankful that it is winter here. Also, people on the streets approach us all of the time, and it is not just catcalls; it is, let me put my arm around your shoulder and breathe my alcohol breath all over you while I propose that we get married. Yep. This happens multiple times a day. What a turn on I tell ya.
Cellphones:
If you think people in the states are bad about cellphones, come here, and then let me know what you think. It is out of control. I understand how cellphones have really improved a lot of things in underdeveloped countries. Providing ways of communication helps things drastically. I have found it helpful as well considering internet can be hard to come by. I got one for my stay here to keep in contact with the people in my group and to call taxis, but I have neglected it terribly. I’m not really concerned about this; it has been absolutely amazing not having it. However, back to my point. We went to a landfill today as a study trip for my Environmental Public Health course, and I saw one of the workers dragging a piece of trash across the landfill with one hand and SMSing with his other hand. It gets worse. I have now been at the clinics twice. I am there 7:30am-4pm Wednesdays and Thursdays. While a nurse or doctor is consulting with their patients they will whip out their cellphone and SMS or even talk on the phone. While they are with the patient!!! Stop the madness. I am horrified.
Africa Time:
I’ve never really thought about time as an aspect of culture until I came here. I think it is safe to say that in the States time is important to our culture. We make appointments and stick to time schedules. While we all have friends that are chronically late, we still expect them to arrive when we had planned and may even get slightly irritated if they are even 10 minutes late. We also measure a lot of things according to time. It’s important for us to know how long it takes to get to places, and we even concern ourselves with activities thinking “Is this really worth my time?” Time is of value. In Botswana, however, time is an odd thing. If you ask someone how long it takes to get somewhere, they cannot give you a straight answer. I have come to find that they underestimate how long it takes to get to places. Countless times professors or guest speakers arrive late. Our resident director told us that this is probably due to them running in to family. They will come across someone they know and stop to talk to them for an unknown time without caring that they may be late for a meeting. This specific example shows one). Family is the most important thing to Batswana (family being a loose term because even friends are “family”) and two). Time is the very last thing on people’s minds. It has been hard for me to adjust to this lifestyle. I like my schedules. I have adjusted to slowing down my pace, but the whole being late thing is irking me. Our professor told us to meet at 8am this morning to go to the landfill, but he did not come until 8:30am. I may have huffed and puffed a little. I am going to work on this. Hopefully Africa time will start to wear off on me. It may be healthy for me and my typically high-strung self.
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