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Gaborone, Botswana
Follow me as I learn all about modern life in Gaborone Botswana.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Here You Can Go Home Again

Recently, a colleague kindly provided me with some background information on how property works here. Almost everyone in Botswana has what they call a "home village"; this is the area, run by a chief where they or their parents grew up. When people ask where you are from, they are really asking you about your home village. If you were to reply Gabarone or Francistown, the two biggest cities here, they would just look at you in confusion. In the village each family has plot of land - a compound - which has enough room for several small homes. Older people usually live in the village, and all of their adult children consider this compound their home. If something happens, job loss, illness or just fatigue with city life; the adult children can go home to their village compound (mama's house) and leave there. If they want to stay for a while they can build a small house within the compound or even request a neighboring plot of land from the village chief. All Batswana are basically entitled to land, they can apply to the government for a plot of land or they can request from their home village chief or another chief if they are so inclined. They do have to develop the land in order to keep it, and even if you purchase land from an individual you must develop the land or the government can take it back.

Homelessness is virtually unheard of, and according to my colleague, even the people in shanty towns in Gabs, are there by choice in a way - there to make and save money, because they can always go back to their home village. Apparently many mothers even encourage their adult children to move back "home". I have a lot of questions and thoughts about how that impacts people's choices here. For example, here single motherhood is the norm - marriages happen late if ever and stable monogamous relationships are not as common as any many other places. Perhaps the safety net of the family home has made people much more financially independent then other places and deprioritized the nuclear family. When I compare Botswana to India or even the US where homelessness and poverty are a real and present danger for many single mothers; I can see how this safety net is a big plus.

As for my home, I moved into a very nice two story townhouse and am now completely settled and ready for guests; except I still don't have internet or cable. I have a little garden space for a garden in the back where I'm planning on planting marigolds, eggplant and some collard green seeds that a friend is couriering into Bots for me. The townhouse has 3 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms, and a huge open living room space; basically I'm swimming in space here. My last apartment would likely fit in the bottom floor of this current space and the smallest bathroom in my current place is at least twice the size of my last place. So if you're thinking about visiting me in Botswana your accomadations are totally taken care of. I actually spent several weeks trying to find a smaller place, but I couldn't find anything suitable in a smaller size - it's a complaint I've heard from quite a few expats. After I signed my lease I actually found a couple of apartment buildings that are more suitably sized for a single person, but they are all hidden and seem to go pretty quickly.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Visitor and Tribesman

"Welcome Home". One of my co-workers immediately greeted me with this phrase. The next cocked her head, looked at my face hard and said, you look just like a Kalanga (a tribe in Northern Botswana and Zimbabwe). I thought she was just being nice, or maybe teasing me a bit, until someone else walked into the room and as if on cue said, "you know, you look like you come from the North, like my husband's people - the Kalanga". When I met the next co-worker, who looks just like one of my Aunties it pretty much sealed the deal. I always assumed my ancestors were from West Africa, where most of the slave trade was based, but maybe I've made it to my ancestral home.

I've had the opportunity to travel to places that many would consider exotic, and in the past everywhere I've gone, I stick out like a sore thumb. In China people were obsessed with touching my hair and took pics of me with their cell phone. In India school boys stared with open mouth and families wanted to take their pictures with me. Here I completely blend in, people walk up to me and start speaking Setswana, it's a strange and beautiful feeling. There's a real human need to feel like you belong and it's quite a bit easier when you look like everyone around you.

Apparently there may be some draw backs to looking like you belong when you aren't equipped to play by all of the cultural rules. People here can be a bit subtle, that's great if you can read the cues and in between the lines. I'm afraid I don't have that skill yet and honesetly I'm not sure I can develop it before my 12 month contract expires. The directors in the office seem pretty aware of the danger, aware enough to warn me at least, hopefully with their help I'll avoid any serious cultural faux pas and at the very least I'll sharpen my intuition a bit dealing with these cultural subtleties.

I am feeling very much embraced by my long lost tribe. People have been inviting me to activities consistently and have swaddled me with advice and warnings. Most of the warnings seem to be about avoiding theft which is a bit of a problem here. Drive with your purse hidden under your seat to avoid car jackers. Avoid getting a house where there's construction next door, etc. This is arguable the safest country in Africa, there's hardly any violent crime, but theft is a serious problem.

As welcome as I'm feeling, I also realize that I'm still a visitor. I got a chance to meet up with another American a few days ago, who had been here about a week, just like me. It was funny to see that we were going through the exact same emotions; curiousity, fascination and deep appreciation of this new culture. We'll likely start experiencing the negative emotions of frustation and homesickness about the same time as well but for now it's great to have someone with whom I can explore Gaborone and this very interesting culture.

Here's my interesting cultural learning for the week - In Botswana marriages are a time of major celebration and expense. While everyone participates in the celebration the groom is responsible for taking care of all of the expense - he not only pays for the ceremony, the dress, and the venue, he must also pay lobola, a dowry which is usually 8 to 10 cows given to the bride's family. Cash is now often given in place of cows. The bride's uncle is responsible for negotiating the lobola. The bride is only responsible for buying the food for the reception. After I heard this tradition, I was bit confused why any man would want to get married - so I asked, "given how expensive it is, why would a man want to get married". The response I got was, "Because he has to". I'm not quite sure if that means that the bride somehow traps him, or if there's just a lot of pressure to get married from family and society, hopefully it meant something a bit more romantic like, his loves compels him to spend all his savings demonstrating his deep affection. Apparently, the bride can choose to help her sweet heart out with the expense, but it didn't sound like a common occurence. The tradition apparently spans throughout Southern Africa, which by the way, typically has a much later age of marriage then the rest of Africa. In Botswana the average age of marriage is 30 for men and 27 for women, compared to Kenya 26 for men and 21 for women.

The woman who explained the lobola to me asked how marriages worked in the states, she was a bit shocked that we don't have any dowry. When I explained that traditionally the bride's family is responsible for the wedding cost, but most couples pay for their own weddings; I'm pretty sure she vowed she would never marry an American.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Goodbye Seattle - July 6th

Before I can say hello to Gaborone, I need to say goodbye to Seattle. I've lived in the Tacoma/Seattle area since I was three years old, and in Seattle for the last 10 years. Seattle has it's own personality that manages to mix a casual nature loving comfort with a fast work pace and a reverence for privacy and boundaries. We wear jeans everywhere, call our colleagues (even those with Ph.Ds and 40 years of experience) by their first names and hike and kayak while eating organic trail mix. Seattle has a long list of attributes that I will miss including a bevy of fun-loving intelligent mission driven people, a music scene that draws great musicians - no Bumbershoot for me this year - and easy access to nature with in-city hikes, beaches and large parks.





The top three things I will miss about Seattle are:

My family; the incomparable Lynitra Jackson - mother, teacher and minister who deserves awards and honors for her integrity, loves me incessantly, tries to protect me from dangers real and imagined and has quite a few eccentricities; my sister Sarah Jackson, bold, intelligent, talented tweener who keeps me on my toes with her unflagging belief that I am fabulous and challenges me with her innocent questions and expectations of a just and beautiful world; a handful of aunts and uncles including my Aunt Pat who I've become really close with in the last few years, a boat load of cousins and a growing number of their progeny, and last but not least my grantdma Lotye Jackson, I find myself sounding just like her when cooing at babies and when telling people off,

The convenience -yes I slightly dread running into highschool classmates at the grocery store, but one of the benefits of being in the same area for two decades is I know where everhting is. I know the best consignment shops and where to get a vegan buffet lunch or a great mojito., I know the best route to take to get from North Seattle to Renton based on the time of day, weather and wind speed. I love my dy cleaner, masseuse, nutritionist and physical therapist and they are rather fond of me. Although Gabarone will undoubtedly have aspects that I'll love nothing is ever as convenient as your hometown.

The weather - just kidding- I will not miss the rainy, cloudy gray Seattle weather at all. I need sun and vitamin D and this is definitely not the place for either of those necessities. You could wear sweaters in Seattle all year long, It's summer and I wore a sweater twice in the last week, it rained on the 4th of July and not the summer rain that many places get, where the rain is a welcome break to the sweltering heat - it was cold and gray all day and then it rained. It's winter in Botswana right now and their temperatures are in the high 50s to low 70s, basically the same temperature we've had all summer here in Seattle. Even when the sun is shining in Seattle, we're so far north that most people can not get enough vitamin D. It's just not right.

Seattle is a wonderful place but it's time to try warmer, drier, brighter pastures and learn what I will love in Gaborone.