Concessions

No, not the concessions you have at a baseball game.  Though a hot dog sounds really good right about now.  Concessions as in, “What is your list of demands that will convince you to accept another Fulbright and remain in Africa for another year?”

In case you missed yesterday’s post, I received another Fulbright award which is a huge honor.  However, if you have been following my blog for any amount of time you know that living in Africa is a bit more challenging than home, or any western country for that matter.  But Fulbright, and the U.S. Embassy here, really want me to stay, so much so that I was told, “Tell us what we can do to make this deal happen.”

Today I gave that proposal a little bit of thought.  I’ve spoken to a few friends and gotten lots of email messages from people trying to convince me why I should return to the U.S., why I should stay another year, or what concessions I should ask for.  Here is the ultimate list, compiled in conjunction with one of the (many) co-Presidents of my Fan Club:

Dear Ambassador:

Thank you for your support for my Fulbright award.  As requested, I have compiled a list of concessions I would require to remain in Botswana for the next 14 months.  Please find the list below: 

1. Embassy-sanctioned housing.  I am aware from my friends who work in your office that all embassy homes have their own power generators, water tanks and fuel which are maintained by U.S. government resources.  In an effort to provide a more comfortable standard of living and professional existence, the avoidance of power cuts, water rationing and Internet inconsistency would be ideal. 
2. Diplomatic mail privileges. During that past year I have had a particular challenge attempting to receive any mail from loved ones.  There was the time my package was impounded because I needed to obtain a beef permit from the Ministry of Agriculture for a box which contained a package of beef jerky.  Another time it took nearly two months for a postcard to arrive from Namibia.  I could have walked to Namibia and back in a shorter amount of time.  I still haven’t received my Christmas cards and I know my Dad sent me one that sings- he always does. 
3. PX shopping pass.  I would like to shop at the PX with all the other embassy workers.  There is no such thing as toilet paper shortages or lack of fresh fruit at the PX.  And you don’t have to buy dead people’s clothes either. You guys get your stuff shipped in from the U.S. every week!  I also know there is a Subway franchise.  I got that information from a very reliable source.  Given the lack of restaurants or real fast food in Botswana, this would be a big plus for staying here another year. 
4. A seat at the table.  I think the U.S. needs a Secretary of Tourism.  I’m your girl! I went to the UNWTO Conference.  No one represented the U.S.  I already made lots of connections and have buddies in all the tourism ministries all over Africa.  I could work on your visa facilitation programs, development initiatives and spearhead homeland security and safety training in the tourism sector. 
5. Naming rights.  I realize Phelantown may be too large a request.  But how about a lake or a river?  Queen Victoria is long gone; she won’t know if we rename her lake.  Actually, on second thought, you really don’t need to make me happy.  My mom’s the important one.  Let’s say we just name a shopping mall after her.  Now, that’s definitely doable

Looking forward to your response,

Kelly

Lesotho: The World's Only Drive-Thru Passport Control

Last week a friend and I decided to visit Lesotho.  Most people haven’t actually heart of Lesotho, but it is a very small, landlocked country, which is entirely surrounded by South Africa.  As you can see here it is the white country with the star indicating Maseru, the capital:

Lesotho is one of only four countries in the world which are “contained” within another country.  The other three countries are San Marino and Vatican City (both in Italy) and Monaco (inside France).

The population of Lesotho and Botswana is actually the same, just over 2 million people.  The difference is that Botswana is the size of Texas in terms of landmass, while Lesotho is about the size of Maryland.  About a quarter of the entire population lives in Maseru, but it feels as if everyone in the country lives there.  Maseru is incredibly small for a capital city, with only one traffic circle and five main streets.  And the streets are FULL of traffic, mostly combis (mini bus taxis) and TONS of people walking, EVERYWHERE.  We drove to Lesotho and I was so thankful we made it out without getting in a car accident.  We saw several and they are so common people don’t think anything of them; they just ignore them and keep driving.  Perhaps they don’t even have car insurance there.

One of the things that was really interesting about Lesotho was their border.  I’ve entered and exited over fifty countries and never seen a border with a drive-thru passport control.  You don’t even get out of your car.  The driver just hands the passports of everyone in the car through the window to the woman sitting inside the office and she stamps the passports.  However, what surprised me was that she only stamped the passports, she didn’t scan them.  In fact, there was no machine in which to scan them.  If you are unsure what I am talking about, when you enter a country, the passport control officer checks the passport to make sure it is really you in the picture.  Then he/she scans the passport on a special passport scanning machine.  This pulls up all your personal information which stores it in the system and alerts the officer in case you are wanted by InterPol (basically the International Police) because you are a criminal or a missing person.  In Lesotho they skip all steps and just stamp the passports, no questions asked.  It definitely makes the process quick and painless, but then again, I can’t imagine a lot of criminals going to Lesotho to hide out.

Welcome to Lesotho, “I’ll take a cheeseburger, fries, a chocolate milkshake, and a passport stamp please:”

“What’s a drive-thru?”

About a week ago I wrote a blog post about the lack of restaurants here in Botswana (Who goes to a restaurant only once per month?). Today I had to go back and visit my friends with whom I had that conversation.  I hadn’t seen them in a little while, so they were asking me how I was settling in, about my classes and again, we discussed food and restaurants.  Mompati was saying he had read an article about obesity in America and wanted to know if restaurants were the reason.  The conversation bounced back and forth between restaurants, fast food, obesity, cooking, and then I said those two magic words…drive thru.

Gladys and Mompati exchanged glances then asked in unison, “What’s a drive-thru?”

I explained how drive-thrus were available at fast food chains, banks, dry cleaners, liquor stores, post offices, pharmacies and chapels (for both marriages and funerals!).  However, despite my attempts at explaining how the drive-thru worked they didn’t quite get it.

Back in Lubbock I am known for having a rather rowdy office on occasion.  Part of that is because my graduate students and I like to do “demonstrations.” Before I went to China my graduate students organized a demonstration of how to walk properly in Asia.  When I returned I presented my own demonstration of how to successfully enter the subway.  Typically these little gatherings involve a lot of laughter and color commentary.  My graduate students would have been proud, because when I couldn’t figure out a way to properly explain a drive-thru I proposed a demonstration.

Mompati was getting ready to leave campus anyway, so I went out and drew a path in the dirt and indicated the path he should follow and where to stop.  Unfortunately, after 30 years of frequenting drive-thrus myself I made a fatal mistake on the first try, I bent down on the left side of the car (driver’s side in the U.S., but passenger’s side here) to “take his order.”  Oops, scratch that.

Take Two went a bit more smoothly.  He drove up to the “entrance” where I took his order a la imaginary menu board and microphone.  Then he proceeded to the second window where he paid, and then a third where he received his food.

The demonstration itself was a lot of fun, as were the questions which followed: “But, why don’t you just park the car and walk into the store?” “What if I want to go in the store? Does this mean I can’t?” “Do I have to eat the food in the car?” “I don’t get it.”

When McDonald’s first opened drive-thrus in China people couldn’t understand the concept either.  People would go through the drive-thru to purchase their food, then park and take the food back inside the restaurant to eat it.

Needless to say, not all American inventions are easily translatable or welcome.  Some are willingly embraced while others are less readily adopted.  I have it on good authority that, “Botswana would never do this.”  I hope he’s correct.  But there is one thing I always say to my students, “Never say ‘never’ my friends.”