Culture Shock!

To prepare us to leave the isolation of Mokolodi and enter the big city of Gabarone (pronounced Chabarone, Gabarone, Chabaronee, or Gabs), we were given a couple of readings that are given to people who plan to travel to America. We got to learn what America looks like to people who have never seen it before and which of our values are not shared by other cultures (there are many).

Our last night in Mokolodi, we went to a bar to celebrate the birthday of two of my classmates. We had three birthdays this week, what are the chances of that? (I could figure it out if I had the time.) I thought it historically significant to drink a gin and tonic in southern Africa. Though the malaria here has long been chloroquine-resistant, I felt like paying homage to old-time white colonialists. Or at least to whoever was clever enough to make an alcoholic beverage into a vaccine. If they inved an HPV margharita, I bet it would be much more popular.

On Thursday, armed with a map, a list of things to learn, and the knowledge of how to greet people in Setswana, we were dumped in Gabs in groups of two or three and told when to return to our temporary home (Lolwapa Lodge). Oh man, was that overwhelming. I've learned that I get really nervous talking to people in another language and just sort of stand there not saying anything. Huh, imagine me, not saying anything. And you're not supposed to just go up to someone and ask directions, you first need a "Hello. Hello. How are you? Fine, you? Fine." (Dumela-rra [or -mma]. Dumela-mma. O tsogile jang? Ke tsogile sentle. Wena, o tsogile jang? Ke tsogile sentle.) It wasn't too disastrous, if the Batswana (people of Botswana--the pronunciations are slightly different) followed that script exactly. Slang or other words completely confused us.

Public transportation around here is Combis, which are white vans that drive up and down certain streets that many people can cram into and pay 2.50 pula (40-ish cents) to go as far as the Combi goes. There are Combi stops, but you can ask to get out somewhere else along the line, and if you are walking down the street Combis will honk at you, and you can pick one up or wave it past.

They drive on the left side of the street. It boggles my mind. That, along with the ubiquitous Cadbury chocolate, are some of the prominent remnants of the British protectorate.

Traffic lights are called "robots".

We were addressed as "English", or something of the sort. It's not derogatory, they just seem to think we're from England. You know, I've never been so conscious of the color of my skin. People, especially kids, will actually stop and stare. Adults tend to greet us and talk.

Botswana has 1.6 million people and 3.5 million cows.

On Saturday, groups of three or four were each given the name of a nearby village, and sort-of directions to the bus station. We went to Thamaga. It was a lot of fun and the people there are really friendly. When we got off the bus at the village, an American (or Brit, we couldn't come to agreement on that) from the Peace Corps got us a taxi and sent us to a restaurant for lunch. It was good. We got to talk to a couple of twenty-somethings from the village. From them, we learned that the population of the village was about 15,000 and that their tribe is the Bakgatla. (The "tl" combination is sharp and click-ish, making the name of that tribe completely unpronounceable by us.) We went to a pottery store, and they had some really cool stuff.

Around here, people's names mean something, like a women we met whose name was Setswana for "happy cows". And they don't really use time like we do. They mark time by events and interactions, not by an arbitrary numbering system. This takes a bit of getting used to, especially when waiting for a bus. Oh, and in Setswana, there is only one word to mean both blue and green.

Tomorrow I'm off to homestay # 1, in a village called Otse. I will live with a family that consists of a mother, father, and two teenage daughters. I don't remember their name. They may or may not have electricity or running water. Pit latrines are quite popular in villages. I may not have internet access for a couple of weeks.

Breakfast this morning was peanut butter and jelly, which was surprisingly comforting.

Go D-backs.