Monday, March 31, 2014

Week 10-11: PVB and Inner Peace

It has already/only been two weeks since we returned from short vac. I can't make up my mind as to which of the two words to use. The past two weeks have been the busiest yet for classwork (our CIEE classes, mostly) so our days have passed quickly, packed with project meetings, research, interviews, writing, etc. I've enjoyed CIEE's curricular emphasis on hands-on research and interaction with local students regarding local culture as well as social problems. Last week I completed: one group research paper on waste management in Botswana which included a survey we conducted among students, a presentation about a previous paper on intimate partner violence in Botswana, and a project about relationships in Setswana culture which included a survey of 100 students as well as interviews with local experts-- I was able to interview one of the counselors in the Careers and Counselling Department at UB. Here's a link to the Prezi we will present Wednesday about our research:

http://prezi.com/yx65b_u9df8w/ciee-relationship-research-project/?utm_campaign=share&utm_medium=copy

The week before last I also got to attend a unique and unexpected learning opportunity: an LGBTQ film festival! The courage, tenacity, and openness I experienced were inspiring, as queer people and relationships are highly stigmatized in Botswana, even within the university population. Both female and male same-sex sexual acts are illegal in the country. The festival ran for three consecutive evenings, but I just attended the second night which featured two short films. The first was an excerpt from a full-length Botswana-made production (due out this year) about life experiences of LGBT individuals in Botswana. Honestly, the production quality was pretty poor by U.S. standards, but it was really cool to hear the stories of people who choose to be themselves even in the face of daily discrimination and potential for personal harm. It was also very inspiring to hear about the work of a few support and activist groups that are working toward social and legal acceptance in the country. The second film was a short film from South Africa that, despite a fictional plot line, highlighted a current issue deemed "corrective rape"-- the rape of lesbian women with the explicit purpose of punishing their transgression of heterosexist gender roles and/or changing their sexuality. The film was heartbreaking. It also served as a platform for an interesting panel discussion on gender-based violence to contextualize the "corrective rape" phenomenon. I decided it was most appropriate for me to take a listening role, and I really enjoyed hearing different perspectives within the LGBT and feminist community/communities. Many individuals echoed a critique of violence masculinities as a major issue. Although the second-wave concept of "global sisterhood" has rightfully come under fire from post-structural, post-colonial, and third-wave feminists (among others) I was certainly able to identify with many of the opinions expressed and I was glad to have had the opportunity to show solidarity with women and queer people in a country very different from my own. I also made friends with the event coordinator, Lalah, and her friend Nei, and the two of them, Lexy and I got together and made lunch on Friday at Lalah's place. I really wish I would have met them sooner... making local friends is bittersweet at this point, knowing we only have seven weeks left.

On a more hetero-normative note, last weekend (March 22nd) I was able to attend a Setswana wedding. One of Lexy's classmates invited her to her cousin's wedding and told Lexy she could bring a couple of friends. The three of us took a bus Saturday morning to Molopolole, about 40km outside Gaborone. The service was small and was held at an Anglican church. It seemed like it involved a lot of Anglican liturgy (not that I would know), but was interspersed with the beautiful efflorescence of Setswana songs--one person would start, and then most of the rest of the church joined in with harmonies that reverberated through the tiny church but could have filled a concert hall. Although I understood only about half of what was said--most of the service was in Setswana--I still felt moved by the ceremony. We then traveled with the wedding party through the streets of Molepolole, honking, swerving, bridesmaids dancing out of the sunroofs of a caravan of BMWs. Back at the house, at least 100 people were already there: cooking, and waiting for food. In Botswana, weddings are public events, and it seemed as though the family of the bride was serving the entire neighborhood. Mary, Lexy's classmate, was exhausted when she dropped us back off at the bus rank after lunch, but said she was looking forward to the following weekend when the husband's family in Francistown would host a reception, at which she would be a guest. We couldn't stay for the whole reception, but we stayed long enough to enjoy the amazing food and Mary's wonderful hospitality. We also got to see the bride's first (of three or four) outfit changes for the evening. Different family members pick different outfits; even if the in-laws pick something ugly the bride has to wear it, if only for a couple of hours. The whole event was beautiful and seemed really expensive; it was apparent just how important weddings are in Setswana culture.

A short clip from the ceremony I took on my iPhone:



After missing the Son of the Soil cultural festival I was so excited to have to opportunity to finally wear my traditional dress!

Lexy and I 

Gabby and I 





This weekend (yesterday) I got to run a half-marathon as part of the Steinmetz Gaborone Marathon event. A handful of exchange students, myself included, left UB at 5am, and watched the sun rise shortly after the race started at 6am from the Grand Palm Hotel. There were a lot fewer people than I expected; it was fun to be so close to the clock at the start line, and for like 10 seconds I pretended I was an elite. During the race we got to see parts of the city we'd never seen, and definitely saw Gaborone from a different vantage point-- although the fear of being hit by an erratic combi driver is apparently inescapable, as the drivers did not appear to have altered their routes and periodically cut onto the course to drop off or pick up passengers. Overall, the event was well organized and I had a lot of fun running it with Kelly. It was her first half marathon and she/we beat her goal time by 13 minutes! It was also cool finish with a half marathon, and realize that I felt really, really good. And if someone made me (or I had mentally prepared to do so) I could have run another one. Someday soon, hopefully! Obviously we refueled with chocolate milk and beer. (photo cred: Kelly Hart and Dana Sherman)

Our friends made signs for us! Also cheap beer has never tasted better.
I finally understand the appeal of beer after a run. This could be dangerous... 


Dana, Me, Kelly
Emotionally, the last couple of weeks have been a journey. Right after spring break I definitely had major Post-Vacation Blues (PVB). It wasn't just coming back to Gabs, because I get PVB back in the States too. But after all of the anticipation and all of the fun we had over break, I was not looking forward to coming back to UB (rather than actual home). A few days into the old routine though, I found myself out of the slump and with a rejuvenated mind. Of course I've had my ups and downs over the past couple of weeks--"downs" mostly being frustration with the usual incidences of inconveniences or poor service--but I've surprised myself with how content I typically am. Although I still experience "culture clashes," where my environment doesn't match my expectations, I'm no longer shocked when these occur. Although I still don't like it, I don't waste my energy being upset about the way people look at me or talk about me. And it may sound cynical, but when I get frustrated with a situation I just remind myself that I should have known better, that I should have known something would have taken longer than expected, that something would go "wrong". I've tried to learn from Batswana--of course they dislike when things go wrong, but I've found that most locals are so much more easygoing about these inconveniences, and don't force such rigid time constraints on achieving their goals.

I realize that in many ways I am a product of my culture--functionalist, productivity-oriented, etc. But in many ways I'm also more flexible than I would have imagined before I arrived. My clothes permanently stink because I have to hand wash all of them in lukewarm water and I haven't quite mastered it. The only coffee I have is instant, and only when I can borrow the hot pot from my neighbors (because the one Lex and I bought broke after a month). Forget about lattes. I often can't get vegetarian food. I can't remember the last time I had a salad. I have diarrhea at least once per week. I have at least five actively itchy or bleeding mosquito bites every day. I get lucky enough to have a warm shower maybe once a week. The power and internet go out at least as often. I can't be around the people from home that I love...

I could go on, but I don't really want to. Because for whatever reason, I'm content. I don't need the external comforts (indulgences). I feel like people from the U.S. (myself included!) use these comforts to deal with the excessive amount of stress we accept into our lives and psyches. But beyond a few basic needs (not exactly Maslow's hierarchy, but what I would consider the essentials)--sustenance, security (physical, economic, health, emotional), human connection, sense of belonging and/or purpose--what do we really need to make us happy?

People who were random strangers 12 weeks ago are now dear friends, and together we laugh through our culture shock, our embarrassing moments, our frustrations. As my friend Kelly likes to say: "there's nothing left to do but laugh." I accept who I am; I accept my cultural background; I accept that I am biased; I accept that I am not as "worldly," "open" and "educated" as I'd like to believe, an that that such egotistical self-beliefs can be dangerous for those less privileged than myself; I accept that Batswana have cultural backgrounds much different from mine; I accept that different does not mean better or worse; I accept that people don't have to agree in order to respect and love each other; I accept that I can never know what I know until I know what I don't know. Humility is beautiful. Discomfort is good, it means I'm learning. And I love it.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

"Spring" Break aka Short Vac

I feel like I haven't written in such a long time! Probably because I haven't. But with good reason. Last week was short vacation (spring break basically, except it's late summer/fall/beginning of rainy season here), and for a week and half before that I was struggling through a bout of tonsillitis that kept me out of class for a week. It was definitely the worst illness I've ever had, as far as I can remember, exacerbated by the fact that I spent most of the time alone in a dingy dorm room half a world away from home. I was lonely, scared and resenting my decision to come here. Definitely a low point. But with any illness I've experienced, personally and through my loved ones, I reason that the experience will strengthen my knowledge, understanding and empathy as a future doctor.

I was actually surprised when the doctor diagnosed me with tonsillitis, since my sore throat was mild compared to my skull-shattering headache. She gave me antibiotics and I thought I would be fine, but I had to come back the next day as I was experiencing nausea, vomiting and diarrhea. I saw a different doctor and she supposed I was intolerant of the medication. Given the state I was in by that point, the doctor chose to give me IV fluids, an injection for pain and fever (I couldn't take my ibuprofen or Tylenol/codeine because of the vomiting), and an antibiotic injection. She sent me home with a different antibiotic, but after one day's dose of that I was back in the clinic with the same reaction as before. So more IV fluids (I looked deathly) and another antibiotic injection. A few days after that I did start to feel much better, and I was well just in time to go on the trip I'd been planning with my friends for months.

The private clinic was timely and efficient, well-equipped, and all of the doctors I saw were attentive and competent. Two of the doctors in the clinic were Europeans (German, I think) and one was local (she was my favorite that I saw, and in my opinion the most competent), which is similar to the public clinics which also employ many foreign doctors. The situation will likely change in the coming decade though, as the first wave of Botswana-trained doctors begin to graduate from UB and the academic hospital opens this year or next. Each visit to the private clinic, including prescriptions, cost me around $35 without insurance. I still get to bill my on-site insurance through my program, but I was pleasantly surprised that the cost of my care did not add to the stress of being ill.

So anyway.. SPRING BREAK! What a wonderful, much-needed romp through some truly beautiful and awe-inspiring places. And I found it so rewarding to travel competently through Southern Africa on a trip my friends and I had planned on our own. Here are some excerpts from my travel journal:

Namibia
10-3-14

Anandi, Nahara, Krista, Kat and I departed before sunrise to catch our bus to Windhoek. I woke up at 4:45am... after going to bed at 1am. whoops. We made our way to the back of the bus rank where we found a mini bus towing a trailer for luggage. Each seat was at most 18" wide, and each was generously filled. The bus was also overbooked and there were people standing in the aisle. Four of us grabbed the back row (with five seats technically, but appropriate ass-space for four small-to-averagely-sized humans) before we realized we would have to share. With a random dude sandwiched in the row, I had one haunch on the set and one sort of angled up sideways to accomodate my new friend (we said maybe 10 words to each other). I couldn't move my arms from their awkward position crossed across my chest and lap. Cramped and unable to do anything comfortably, even read, I tried my best to sleep. At one of our many stops the guy got off. We celebrated our freedom!... A little too soon. At the very next stop an even larger and heaver man boarded the bus and sat pinching the outermost part of my thigh. As we got closer to Windhoek our number dwindled and we finally got the bench to ourselves again. Though somehow our supposedly 11 hour bus ride became a 15 hour bus ride and by the time we arrived around 10pm we could not have been more ready to get off the bus! The ride wasn't all bad though. It was nice to have some time to think and reflect, which is always worthwhile to do at the start of a journey. I had one of those "oh my god, I'm really in Africa" moments, followed by a feeling of intense gratitude for the opportunity and the mental and emotional stamina to live such an adventurous life.

We arrived at some random part of Windhoek, a highly developed yet seemingly sparse city. Seriously, we hardly saw anyone walking around. It was eerie, especially compared to the bustle of Gabs. Some nice people our age helped us get a taxi, and urged us to be careful as one of them had just been mugged the night before.

The next morning, after crepes at our hostel, we set out to catch our bus to Swakopmund. We went with a different company for this leg of the trip, and we got a really nice mainliner, complete with a toilet onboard, where we each got our own row of two reclining chairs. Swakopmund was so lovely! Our hostel was neat and pretty and the hostess was great. We barely had time to drop our bags off before we were picked up for our sandboarding excursion. The dunes were so immense and awe-inspiring. Looking out at them from the top, the looked like a mountain range with a fluid-like quality, especially as cloud shadows flowed and tumbled over them in the emphatic afternoon wind. I tried stand-up boarding even though I haven't snowboarded in years. It took a few tries to build my confidence, but I was finally able to carve down the dune. I fell once, but it was actually really fun-- the sand was very fine and so much softer, warmer and more forgiving than compact snow. I also got to try the lie-down boarding with my friends on the fastest slope. I got up to 73 km/hr! Hiking up the dune was pretty exhausting but a little exercise felt good after so much travel.




Me, Kathiana, Anandi, Nahara, Krista










After much needed showers we had dinner at a place called Napoletana which served a mix of wild game, Italian-inspired dished and German food. I tried an Oryx burger which was delicious. It reminded me of Ben's elk meat we ate sometimes back at the Grange. By the time we were done it was after 10pm and were all exhausted. We decided to save our going-out energy for Cape Town where there's more of a night scene. Swakopmund was actually really, eerily empty, even more than Windhoek. I guess it bustles in the summer, but this is definitely the off-season.

The next morning a guide picked us up for our desert of the "moon landscape" area. It truly looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. It was vast and desolate, but our guide nonetheless showed us a plethora of ways life has adapted and persisted.















The whole area has been shape by post- ice age flooding and volcanic activity. Many of the craggy hills have bands of dolorite jutting from them, and much of the rock is granite and marble.






One of the highlights was seeing the strange, ancient, and remarkably well-adapted Welwitschia plant that grows only in the Nambib desert. It's actually a tree, but its trunk (1-2 meters long) grows underground. We saw one that was 400 years old, but they can live into the thousands of years.

Some sediment has eroded so you can see part of the trunk

Of course the five of us had a blast exploring, taking pictures, being goofy (it was a private tour), etc. But the landscape was also very awe-inspiring and thought-provoking. I felt very small, fragile and young (in terms of geologic time). When we drove through a vast expanse with literally nothing but flat, parched earth, this feeling was unsettling. But at times, as I often do, I felt to fulfilled, humble, amused, and exultant about my tiny human reality. Life is such a treasure. I thought some about the human appreciation for and pursuit of beauty-- why do I find the inhospitable desert so beautiful?

springbok on the move


(Below: photo cred. Anandi)

stranded 



My timing was a little off


Aaaand.. still off. But I think my exuberance makes up for it. 

After the tour we walked around town and went to the beach. Both the water and ambient temperature were quite chilly, so I didn't go in, but Krista and Nahara did. The water is cooled by a current that comes up from Antarctica, which also explains the near-constant blanket of fog along the coastline and scarcity of precipitation. It's a unique place. We ended our day at a pub for dinner and drinks and then spent the rest of the evening at out hostel, just talking in our room.






The next morning we boarded a 5 hour bus back to Windhoek, then a double-decker sleeper bus for the 20-hour drive to Cape Town. Anandi and I were on top at the very front-- what an awesome vantage point! We were right above the driver with a huge windshield in front, a skylight, and windows on both sides to take in the view.

Cape Town

16-3-14

It seems like it's been weeks since we arrived in Cape Town. We packed so much into just four days, and had so much fun. Seriously, I'm already feeling nostalgic for it, for the best spring break of my life so far (probably ever, but we'll see).






Tuesday
We arrived after about 27 hours of travel and met up with Tarikwa at the hostel. We got ready to go for a late lunch/ early dinner with Anandi's friend Johnny who's studying at the University of Cape Town. The place was cute a stylish and both the gourmet veggie burger and the espresso were amazing. Actually the espresso was even better than the burger-- I felt a major pang of homesickness for western Washington. After dinner we all walked down to the waterfront. We rode the Ferris wheel which had enclosed cars probably because CT can get really windy. Then, after two different restaurant hosts competed for our business, we chose a place called Mitchell's Pub which has karaoke upstairs at the bar. By the time we finished our first drinks the place was packed, and by the time I finished my second or third I was ready to sing. Krista and I sang Take Me or Leave Me from RENT which was so much fun. Later on Kat and I sang Don't Stop Believin'. Kat really has an awesome voice! She's been holding out on us. Of course the whole bar was going crazy, which seemed to give us confidence to belt even harder. We killed it. It has been a long time since I've felt such a performance high.

Wednesday
We tried to go to Table Mountain, but the cable car wasn't running due to the wind. SoTarikwa, Kat and I decided to go to the aquarium instead. The Cape is where the very cold South Atlantic and the rather warm Indian Ocean meet. The aquarium showcased marine life from both types of ecosystems as well as aquarium staples: sharks, touch tanks, etc. And we got to see a feeding of African Penguins!








After the Aquarium we met up with the others at the departure point for our Robben Island tour. The isalnd has such a rich and tragic history: long before it housed South Africa's apartheid-era political prisoners, it was used as a prison by both the Dutch and the British, as well as a leper colony. Nelson Mandela spent 18 years of his life in a cell that was smaller than the kennels used for guard dogs on the island. For the tour it was set up as it would have been during Mandela's imprisonment, and the tour was conducted by a former political prisoner. Robben Island was sometimes call "the university" by anti-apartheid activists, as the great minds of the resistance were imprisoned there together. They were not in solitary confinement, and so were able to share ideas, although they were forced to complete long days of hard labor. Nelson Mandela completed Long Walk to Freedom on Robben Island; from there it was smuggled to the UK and published.
















The ride back to the mainland was extremely choppy-- people were getting both soaked and seasick from the 10-foot swells that rocked the rusting old ferry boat. I thought of the man who escaped the island a total of three times under British rule by swimming to Cape Town before finally being exiled to Australia. Simultaneously I watched as we drew closed to the mainland and Table Mountain loomed far above the skyline: a reminder of nature's age and strength. Human struggles like apartheid seem all the more shameful in this light. But human perseverance reunites us with all life as it bends itself toward survival and evolves through struggles. Cape Town has such a fascinating intersection of human and natural history.




In the evening we had plans to go to a Mexican restaurant called Pancho's where Johnny was going to bring Anandi's best friend Lucy (who's also at UCT) to surprise her. We got into a cab with a guy who said he knew where the place was, but 45 minutes and 250 Rand later, he only managed to get us turned around in a very unnerving part of town. He kept stopping people on the street and asking them directions. He asked a group of women on a street corner, sitting under an overhang. They just laughed this loud, eerily mocking laugh. We then asked him just to take us back to our hostel. We tried again with another cab and the driver took us straight to the restaurant, no fuss. It was packed even on a Wednesday night. The food wasn't exactly authentic, but it was really good and I had a tasty and filling veggie burrito. We also had a couple of rounds of margaritas, and it was so sweet to see Anandi and Lucy reunited.

Thursday
We took the metro out to Simon's Town, further south on the cape. On the way a man sat next to us who couldn't speak. He taught us the alphabet in sign language, and we talked about where we were from. He was so sweet and genuine, I couldn't stop smiling. It was refershing just to visit with someone, rather than feeling the discomfort of being hit on. After a while, the train emptied out (Simon's Town was the last stop) and we just talked and enjoyed the view.










Simon's Town was adorable, with its mainstreet lined with its historic shops, churches, lodging, etc. We walked 40 minutes to reach Boulder's Beach, a national park and sanctuary for the endangered African Penguin. We were amazed by how close we were able to get to the penguins. It was so fun to learn about them and observe their behavior. I think they're my new favorite animal. They just hang out all day on gorgeous, idyllic beaches. They notice human presence, but they seem fairly indifferent. They groom themselves and each other a lot, and their walk is adorably awkward. I got some pretty great shots, including some of a few of the penguin couples, which mate for life.















After the penguin park we walked back to the station to get a cab to Cape of Good Hope. The Cape had all the soaring, treacherous, windswept beauty one might imagine. The water was an inviting turquoise, but crashed forcefully upon the rocky shore. The bounty of the cape was evident in the park. Everywhere I looked I saw a strikingly unfamiliar floral landscape. The cape is actually its own floral kingdom--by far the smallest in the world. There are thousands of native species and over 80% are endemic, the highest concentration of endemic species in the world. The most prolific variety is the fynbos--"fine bush" in Dutch. They comprise at least five genera, all with small, delicate flowers.






























After we got back to Simon's Town we took the train back to Cape Town. We were all exhausted from our long day.





Back at the hostel, we freshened up and walked down Long Street in search of food. Long Street is the best place in CT to go for unique restaurants, bars, clubs and pubs, and also happened to be where our hostel was located. We decided on a Cuban-inspired place called Cafe Mojito. After dinner and drinks we were ready to call it a night.

Friday
We decided to try Table Mountain again and fortunately the weather was perfect and the cable car was open. The view was gorgeous, and we got to learn about how the mountain came to look the way it does. The granite base was formed by volcanic activity at a time when the whole area was under water. Layers of sediment then formed on top forming the upper sandstone portion. The combination of the volcanic heat below and the cold ocean above sealed the layers together. During the last ice age, a glacier sat atop the whole area and when it receded, took the uppermost layers of sediment and additionally carved out the valley below. The mountain also doesn't look flat from a certain angle, and blends in with the "apostles," a series of peaks adjacent to the mountain.










We finished at Table Mountain and went to the waterfront for lunch. After lunch we started on our hop-on-hop-off bus tour (a little later than we'd hoped). We realized we would only have time to make one stop, as the bus stopped running in early evening. So naturally we decided on the Constantia wine route, and a tour of the oldest winery in SA, dating back to the 17th century. Groot Constantia wines have been popular with royalty throughout history, including Louis the 16th who bought a whole year's vintage. Such opulence is probably why he got the chop...

We all took a cellar tour, and Kat, Krista and I upgraded our wine tasting to include a chocolate pairing-- all the chocolates were made specifically for each wine and made for a seriously delicious and decadent tasting. All smiles and flushed cheeks, we hopped back on the bus back towards town.



















 After some gorgeous seaside views, we got off at Long Street to get ready for dinner. We ended up going to an Ethiopian place. Anandi and I split a romantic vegetarian dinner combo for two, with an appetizer, sampler of 8 dishes, dessert and coffee. The food, ambiance, and great company made it perfect for our last night in CT. After dinner we went back to the hostel to get ready for a night out on Long Street. The night scene is amazing-- there are so many different venues with all different vibes. We went to a couple of clubs but had the most fun at a place called Bob's. Around 2 am we decided to go back and get some sleep, even though none of us were tired and the energy of the packed club could have kept us up all night.

Saturday
Krista and I left by 8:30am to go to the Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden, dedicated solely to native species. It was so gorgeous. The garden is right up against the slope of Table Mountain, which was the perfect backdrop for viewing all of the pergoniums, proteas, fynbos, cycads, and other unique plants. It was really nice to spend time with Krista as well. She's great company for wandering around a garden.






















There were two gardens in particular that I really liked--one consisted only of threatened, endangered or extinct species, and one was for useful plants: those used for medicine, charms, crafts, erosion control, etc. Traditional/homeopathic medicine is a major segment of both the formal and informal sectors of the economy. Almost all South African use traditional medicine for some purpose or another. Unlike in Bots, traditional medicine and homeopathy are regulated and providers can be certified in their field.






yes, this is a tombstone for an extinct plant

Right now I'm on a bus back to Gaborone, which looks like is running on time. We were very fortunate on this trip: we didn't miss any of our buses even with some tight-ish connections, no one lost anything important, no one was robbed or pickpocketed (our friends in another group were robbed at knifepoint in Johannesburg), and no one had to go to a doctor/clinic/emergency room. We were very blessed and had an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime adventure.

I know I'll travel in the future, but there's something about traveling when you're young, when you stay in hostels with college friends, shamelessly carry your wrinkled clothes (and a bit of dirt and sand) around in a backpack, and above all experience everything with the energy of youth, especially the youth culture and nightlife. "Growing up" will have its own perks, but for now I'm loving where I am.