Mochudi Part 2… and “Spring Break”

Mochudi

Last Saturday was the installation ceremony in the new Bakgatla(tribe) Kgosi(chief) Kgfela Kgfela (chiefs name).  We awoke at 4am so to leave for the kgotla by 5am so to try and get good seats.  We failed on both measures and while we managed to find seats they were not very good and we couldn’t see anything during the entire ceremony.  The kgotla (traditional court) was packed, as in there wasn’t an empty seat, bench or semi-nonobstructive standing room available.   There were even people standing on nearby hills so that that they could see into the kgotla.  The ceremony was long, and all in Setswana.  What started with us sitting down at 5:30am was supposed to end at 2pm.  By now I am used to not understanding a lot of what was going on around me so I was able to just tune out a lot of what was said and work on a Sudoku someone gave me for at least part of it.  The entrance of the chief and President of Botswana were probably the most exciting part of the entire ceremony.  First about 20 women danced into the kgotla in traditional dresses, each with a fairly large clay pot balanced on their head.  No one explained to me what was going on, so I cannot tell you why they did this.  They were followed several hundred women also dressed in traditional clothing but each was carrying a tree branch.  Once they all entered they raised the branches above their heads and waved them as they sang a traditional song.  They left and then came the big bang, literally.  Men in traditional clothing (animal skins capes and various sorts of loin cloth like things) paraded in each with a long pole or gun topped with ostrich feathers.  Poles and feathers waved in the air and a few shots went off.  At first no one knew that the shots were part of the ceremony and everyone ducked but soon it became apparent it was all for show.  The President of Botswana and the new chief marched in as well, surrounded by the swarm. Then came the prayers, the songs, the prayers, the speeches.  I caught about one out of every hundred words and was baking in the sun.  After several hours of this the actual coronation took place where Seretse Khama Ian Khama (the president of Botswana) lay a leopard skin a top Kgosi Kgfela Kgfela.  We left at this time to watch this on a big screen they had outside kgotla.  The chief never smiled once during the ceremony and looked like what you would expect of an African chief draped in a leopard skin with its head a top his.  My mme (mom) was bored so we left a few hours early skipping the last few hours of prayers and songs to watch it on the television in her cool concrete house.  While the ceremony was somewhat boring I can now say I have been to the coronation of an African chief and seen the President of Botswana. 

Later that night after a long nap to make up for my sleep deprivation, I was invited out to a Jazz bar by the boy in my program and his host mom.  Another girl in my program went along with us as well.  At first I had no intention of drinking and really only brought enough money for the cover.  However after being there for 20min the boy’s host mom’s sister noticed none of us were drinking so she bought us all drinks.  From that point forward I do not think there was a moment where I didn’t have a drink in hand, all supplied for by the various host parents and various other host relatives.  Never before in my life have I been encouraged to drink like that by adults.  It was just interesting to see the cultural norms of Botswana really playing out and one of those norms is to be a total drunk.  We listened and danced to both Jazz and African music until the bar closed.  It was a great evening and lots of fun.  Oh also when we were at the bar several people came up to us and told us that we were the first Makgoa (whiteys) they had ever seen in the bar before.  Sometimes I almost forget how much I stand out only to be reminded by the locals.    

My final morning in Mochudi was very very busy.  It was my seven (now eight) year old host sisters birthday.  I spent most of the time washing, cleaning, and preparing food, until sadly I had to leave before the party started.  One thing they made that was delicious was ginger beer.  They made maybe 60 gallons of it and it tasted so delicious, nice and spicy.  My favorite part about it was they had put pineapple in it initially for part of the brewing process and I had to job of taking all of the pineapple out.  Let me just day nothing tastes better than pineapple that has been soaking in ginger beer for 48 hours.

Spring Break

Next week is UB’s midsemester (i.e. spring) break.  I am very excited to get far away from Gabs as it is practically impossible to do over the weekend unless you have a car.  For the break I am heading off to a place called Tofo Beach, a small coastal town about 40km from Inhambane, Mozambique.  What makes it so exciting is that we have our bus tickets, our visas (which were surprisingly cheap), and hostel reservations.  I can’t wait to see the Indian Ocean, snorkel in coral reefs and learn how to surf.  All I hope is that it will be a relaxing vacation where I can nap, read, eat seafood and explore a different African culture.  The only issue will be that I speak no Portuguese but at least the little Spanish I can remember will help me read signs.  Tsamaya mo Tofo!

UB

My clothes are only growing more and more filthy.  I never seize to be impressed by the copious quantities of dirt flowing from my clothing as I wash them in the bath tub.   I don’t think any of my clothes will truly be clean until I get back in the US.  I will be grateful to not wash clothes by hand nor hang them out to dry come December.   Who knows, maybe mom will even do my laundry for me when I get home. J

I have started to compile a list of food I miss.  Here is a little look into it.  Tillamook Medium Cheddar Cheese, Any other Tillamook Cheese (really any cheese from Oregon), Macaroni and Cheese, Tofu, Salmon, Mom’s Jerky (because I ate it all in 2 days), fresher Kiwi, Berries, American Dream Pizza, Whole Wheat Tortillas, Sun Burgers, Home Canned Tuna, Peanut Sauce, Peaches, Black Beans, Salted Butter, Any milk that is not Longlife Milk or Full Cream, Pesto from the Co-op, Clif Bars, delicious Peanut Butter (they have it here but it tastes a little funky), Artisan Bread, Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream, and any food that hasn’t had some sort of contact with cockroaches.

Mochudi Part 1

Dear Friends and Family,

Sorry for the long time span between this post and the previous one.  Let me start by explaining why.  Starting at the end of last week UB installed something called “Websense” which makes it so you cannot access anything on the internet, non school related between the hours of 7:30am and 6:30pm.  It also means that you cannot access some things at all.  For example say I am researching or studying on the internet for my HIV/AIDS class.  If I was to search “modes of transmission” and the word sex or sexual activity were to be in the URL or subject matter of the website it would be blocked.  UB also blocks academic papers because as I hear it plagiarism is a large problem here so they simply make it impossible to read online academic journals, unless you go through the UB library site which is awful and maybe has a quarter of the options of OSU.   So as you may have guessed I am unable to access my blog to upload new updates, unless it is early morning or in the evening and for the last week, I have not been living on campus, but rather staying in the village of Mochudi.

Mochudi

When I say village, Mochudi is not what I would describe as a village, but that is what the people of Botswana call it.  Mochudi has the full spectrum of socioeconomic standings in its population of 40000 people, from dirt floor huts with no water or electricity to houses nicer than the one I grew up in with all of the above plus satellite TV and domestic worker.  I out of the group have been one of the luckier ones.  The family I live with is fairly well off, living in a house made of concrete that is currently under construction, so every day I come home from school a new portion of the ceiling is installed so a wall is painted.  I think it will be a very nice house one everything is no longer grey.  I have running water and electricity however, the power goes out about a dozen times a night, so some nights and mornings are darker than others.   Mochudi is 40km from Gaborone, however this translates to 2 hours on public transportation or 1 hour by car, making my commute much longer than I prefer.  My family is very kind and welcoming.  I have two host sisters, one 3 and the other 7.  The 3 year old is named Baone.   She adores me more than I thought possible for anyone to adore someone.  When I am at the house I cannot escape her and she tries to sleep with me every night except her mother will not let anymore after she tried twice and both times woke up at 2am to go sleep with her mother.  Baone also insists on bathing with me whenever she has the chance, which is often as my Mme (mom) insists that I bath at least twice a day.  My seven year old sister’s name is Gaone.  She keeps a nicer distance but still fills me with stories of her day at school, and what she likes to do for fun.  I have played more Barbie’s and Lego in this last week than I think I have in the last 10 years, because every moment I am not eating or bathing we are doing one or the other.  While my family is wonderful, and I plan on visiting them again before I leave Botswana I will be happy when I get to live at UB again and don’t have to wake up at 5am every day, nor force myself to eat beets and coleslaw with every meal.  Last weekend in Mochudi was very busy.  On Sunday Mme and I attended church, however because they are installing a new chief this weekend the service was at the kgotla (traditional court) and every church in Mochudi was there.  It was also 3 hours long, and we arrived a little late so we didn’t have a seat and had the privilege of standing.  Luckily for my Mme felt that the 10min sermon her preacher gave was not long enough to feel the word of God so we got to leave early.  After leaving the Kgotla we went to a Braii (it's like a South African BBQ) at an Americans home in a nearby village.  The American however had married a Motswana and lived in Bots for 25 years.  By a strange coincidence he is also an exploration geologist meaning it is his job to go out and drill holes to look for water, diamonds, ores, etc.  He told me the next time he went out in to the bush to do this he would give me a call so I could tag along and, “learn more in a weekend than in a term at UB,” as he put it.  I hope he follows through on his offer because that would be a cool experience.  This week of traveling back and forth everyday has taken a toll on my health.  For the first time in Botswana I had horrible stomach issues with everything I put in coming out both ways.  That was not an enjoyable 3 days but I seem to be over it and certainly hope I am.  It was difficult to stay hydrated and I didn’t eat for over 48 hours.  Well I must be off and back to Mochudi; I will update everyone again about the installation ceremony this weekend sometime early next week. Oh and I will also mention my travel plans for spring break, I just need to work on learning Portuguese first. J

Francistown

It was finally a chance to leave Gabs, I mean really leave the city, not just to Kgale Hill, or the Dam but to someone far, far, away, in fact approximately 5.5hrs by bus or 8.5hrs by train.  Last weekend a group of us traveled north to Francistown.  Francistown is one of the older cities in Botswana and the second largest city in the country yet remarkably there is very little there.  To get there five of us awoke at 6am and traveled to the bus rank to catch the 7am bus north.  The bus was crowded, really crowded.  For the first half of the ride I had a window seat which is ideal compared to an aisle seat because on buses in Botswana, people really know how to pack it in tight.  First every seat is occupied, then people shuffle into the aisle until no more fit. Often times you would end up with a butt cheek or other various body parts shoved against your face for 5min or an hour.  Whenever we stopped a few people would get off as most were heading all the way to the city, and then the vendors would get on.  People would crowd the bus holding up items, food and water mostly, for you to buy from your window.  Or a few lucky vendors would make their way down the aisle pushing past everyone and trying to convince you that you wanted what they had to sell.  I figured the best way to not get harassed is to ignore the people, because a lack of eye contact makes you far less susceptible to the vendors who won’t take no for an answer.  Once we arrived in Francistown we were all tired, hot, hungry and thirsty, but rather than trying to remedy any of those we ventured to the train station so buy tickets home.   We arrived to a sign on the door saying, “First and Second class are sold out for today.”  Somewhat frantically we glanced around only realize that the station had yet to open and the sign was from yesterday.  The first thing we did was eat.  We went to this restaurant mentioned in the guide book called Pizza Place.  It was okay, nothing special, just a lot of drunks for 1pm.  Some guys wanted to buy us drinks but we knew better.  Like with the vendors, ignorance is bliss.    After a lunch of traditional Tswana food (dijo tsa Setswana) we walked under the blazing African sun to a free museum on the outskirts of town.  The museum was rather sparse, but it was free and I got a few postcards and gifts.  The rest of the day was rather mellow, a walk around town, and a stop at the liquor store to make the long over night train ride a little more enjoyable.  We were lucky and able to get a second class car, which consisted of six beds, a table and our own room all packed into a 6’x6’x8’ box.  The ride was long and none of us really slept (it was hot, stuffy, and we were not all that sure when our stop was), but we did it and made it back to Gabs Sunday morning, just in time for a nap before climbing.  Francistown like Gaborone will never be a destination but it was different.  One thing about Francistown, it is one of the few large cities close to the Zimbabwe border so people come over to buy food other supplies since from what I hear the shelves of every store in Zim are barren.  There were many trucks and vans packed with clothing, food, and people.  As we were walking back to the train station at dusk we heard a woman in the back of a pickup say, “Let’s go back to Zim and we can be hungry again.”  Being in Gabs gives me no right to complain about my hardships, because compared to Zim, I am living the life, free from political turmoil, stomach full, and no family to feed and worry about.

It's Spelled Oregon not Orogen

Given as I am about half way through the term, I thought I might give a recap on how my classes seem to be going.

TRS104: The Rise of New Religion in Botswana

This is by far my favorite class at UB, first, because it is all new information so I get to learn new things every day. Second, the subject is fascinating. Religion in itself is fascinating, and what is most fascinating is trying to figure out why people believe what they do.

BNS101: HIV/AIDS Prevention and Control

Seventh grade health class strikes again, except this time with a more adult vibe. The professor is funny and I just had my midterm, which while easy, contained information we did not learn in class, however an 80% is an A in this country for I am not all that concerned.

SOC234: Social Problems in Southern Africa

I spend most of my time doodling in this class and the professor seems to miss about every other Friday for some reason or another. I am not sure what I have learned other than that policy in Botswana differs from policies in the US. In my opinion it is because Botswana has not yet come to understand the vices of western civilizations.

GEO408: Environmental Geology

This week we learned about volcanoes. I think I was the only person in the class who had ever seen a volcano with the exception of maybe Mt. Kilimanjaro, maybe. I also think I could have given a much better lecture than the professor which would have included examples and accurate explanations. During the most recent lecture the professor gave one examples, Crater Lake, however he said it was in Orogen, not Oregon, so when I told him it was wrong, he told me I was wrong. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I had lived in Orogen(OREGON) my entire life, so I think I would be correct. I also didn’t tell him because a lot of professors don’t like Americans, or white people, or exchange students all that much so they have a tendency to give bad grades even if they are not deserved and I would rather not find out what kind of professor he is.

ALL132: Introduction to Setswana

Setswana is difficult to learn. No one here knows how to teach languages so it makes the process miserable rather than enjoyable. During out second week in class they took us to the slum in Gabs, Old Naledi, to have us practice speaking to the locals. Let’s just say it was an utter failure and we ended up playing with children because they were the only people who didn’t ask us incessantly for money.

Other than class the weather has been getting hot, hot, hot. It has gotten above 100 the last 2 days and no matter what you do you feel dehydrated. Next week it is supposed to only be in the high 80s. I am excited for that temperature for the first time in my life. Next week I am doing a village home stay in Mochudi where I will have a host family. I found out last week that I will have a Mother, a Father, and two sisters, one 3 and one 7. The seven year old turns 8 on the 21st (Mom’s Birthday) so that should be a fun little party. Life is good in Bots. I am busy with school and excited for spring break. Only 2.5 weeks to go…

A Change of Scenery

Tswana Culture and HIV/AIDS

The Botswana society is patriarchal historically and there is still a strong presence that resonates throughout the country. Men are very aggressive towards women who in turn are supposed to be submissive. Society tells a woman that it is not okay to ask her man where he was, or where he spent the night. And women are supposed to be domestic and take care of the family. It is not uncommon for a man to have what is called a small house. This means he has his wife and family at one place and a lover or two on the side. The practice is not frowned upon and considered to be cultural as polygamy once was the norm before Colonial and Missionary rule. What I mean by Missionary rule is that when the British claimed Botswana as theirs all they saw was a desert and left the country and the people relatively alone so the people were not destroyed under colonial rule. However what the colonists did bring were Christian missionaries, and while some were there (e.g. David Livingstone) before the Bechuanaland Proctorate was established, many came afterwards with bibles and guns, forever changing Tswana society. The missionaries were appalled by the traditional Setswana culture (i.e. rain making rights, rites of passage, circumcision (both male and female), and polygamy) and many convinced chiefs, once converted to abolish all traces of it. This plan of course failed and traces for the past still linger today such as having multiple lovers. These cultural traditions have led to many problems, but most notably above all else, HIV/AIDS. Botswana presently has a HIV/AIDS proliferation of 17.1%. In a country of only 1.8 million people that is a substantial number. The spread of this virus is not due to a lack of education. People know to wear condoms when they have sex, it is drilled into their minds and they are constantly reminded by educators, signs, commercials, advertisements, and peers. The Botswana government gives them away for free so that people do not have to purchase them. From my understanding it is having sex with multiple partners that spread the disease, many young couples do what is called co-inhabitation which is where you live together for a while and then when you break up you just move in with the next boyfriend/girlfriend. Women become pregnant and pass it on to their children because they do not get tested. If a woman has HIV and is pregnant she can lower the risk of passing it on to her child to less than 4% if she takes medication from 40% without. You can be tested for HIV at no cost, and if you are positive the government supplies ARVs (antiretrovirals) for free as well. You can tell the government cares about the people, it is just sad that a country’s culture contributes to its demise. Not to say Botswana is dying because by no means is it. There is just unnecessary death, primarily due to gender roles and fragments of a culture that have been skewed by westernization.

Alcohol.

Many Batswana have what we in the US call a drinking problem but in their eyes there is no problem at all. People drink copiously many nights a week putting frat boys with beer bongs to shame. People drink and drive, and undoubtedly ever Saturday and Sunday morning if you walk around town you see broken glass and crushed garbage bins from drunken collisions. That is one reason I do not go out at night. Some people drink all day every day. There is a student bar on campus, Block 411, I haven’t been there and probably never will, because I hear it is rowdy and dirty. At month’s end when the students receive their allowances (the Botswana government pays their citizens to go to university) many do not go to class and hang out at 411 until all of their allowance has disappeared in the form of booze. We had a discussion in one of my classes as to whether or not drinking too much is a social problem, all of the American and European students agreed that it was, where as the African students were adamant it was not and that there was no such thing as Alcoholism. I have to imagine it is here, in this country, and that individuals and families alike are affected by it. I just do not understand how people can’t see it. This is merely a cultural difference, and there is nothing I can do to change their minds just as there is nothing they can do to change mine.

However despite the vices of this country, the good shines above the bad. The people are wonderful, friendly, open, and normally inquisitive. Sometimes when we talk they cannot grasp my culture just as I can never quite grasp theirs. They are happy people, respectful people, peaceful people. I hope to eventually better understand the culture and know that my classes and Motswana friends are helping do so. I hope everyone at home is doing well and love receiving mail. If you write me I will write you back. I love you and miss. I realized today that it is only three months until I come home. Somehow that doesn’t seem very long anymore.