Things That Make You Go WHAAAAAAAAAT?

As I’ve mentioned before, whenever I travel I particularly enjoy visiting the supermarket because I always see products we don’t have back home.  When I move overseas it always takes me a while to get used to shopping because they don’t organize their stores the same way, or they use different names for certain products, or I can’t find that one thing I’m looking for.  Or I spent a lot of time looking at products I’ve never seen before.

As per usual, today’s trip to the grocery store took over two hours and I only purchased 31 items.  Part of the reason for the prolonged trip is that I had to look at EVERYTHING.  As I was wandering down the potato chip aisle I saw something which made me go:

I don’t eat potato chips often because I don’t really eat sandwiches.  But I think of potato chips as a side dish to either lunch food (like a sandwich) or bar-be-que food.  But the point is, you normally eat potato chips WITH some sort of meat.  Well here, it appears potato chips are intended to emulate meat. Let me give you an example.  Normally you might eat potato chips with a burger.  But, it seems a little redundant to have burger flavoured potato chips AND a burger:

Hungry for a hot dog?  Should you eat a hot dog potato chips AND a hot dog?:

Or maybe you should pair your hot dog with chicken potato chips?:

But, would that be a faux pas because they aren’t complementary proteins? I don’t know the answer!

Then again, you know how whenever you eat a meat no one is familiar with, like crocodile, and someone asks you what it tastes like, the answer always seems to be, “tastes just like chicken?”  By the way, in case you are curious, crocodile kind of does taste like chicken.  But now, that saying applies to potato chips too I suppose.  “Chicken potato chips?  What’s that taste like?”  “As a matter of fact, it tastes just like chicken… and potato chips.”  The truth of the matter is; we will never know what they taste like because I did not buy any of the meaty potato chips.  Maybe next time. 

The Ben & Jerry’s Human Development Index

When I travel I love to visit grocery stores.  I think this is an excellent way of determining the cost of living, the local tastes and it’s an interesting opportunity for people watching and seeing how people interact with one another and the level of customer service.

In Africa, the grocery stores were a bit unusual.  If you found something you liked you bought it immediately because you never knew if you would see it again.  I saw lots of unusual products, like eland, kudu and warthog.  And it was always fun to try and explain a product you desired and have the salesperson give up and offer you a condom.

In Italy I remember seeing baby food made from horsemeat.  In India, we drank Thumbs Up! soda.  And in China I tried durian, which kind of looks like a spiky watermelon and smells like feet.  But in the end, after trying whatever exotic and strange food (zebra testicles anyone?) is available I navigate myself towards the ice cream selection.

Each year the United Nations publishes the Human Development Index.  Using three statistical indices: life expectancy at birth, mean years of schooling, and per capita income, the UN rates each country in terms of “development.”  Some countries, such as North Korea and Somalia are not rated due to the lack of information.  All other countries are rated from low to medium to high to very high development.  Most western countries (Australia, the US, Germany, etc.) are considered very high, while most of Africa is low.  Botswana, South Africa and Namibia are medium.

While the UN Human Development Index is all well and good, I prefer my method of measuring human development: Ben & Jerry’s ice cream.  Obviously, in countries where Ben & Jerry’s is absent, there is low (or maybe medium) development.  Countries which sell Ben & Jerry’s are naturally high or very highly developed.

However, I take my analysis one step further.  I like to examine the price point of Ben & Jerry’s to determine the cost of living.  In the U.S. the price of a pint of Ben & Jerry’s is roughly $4.  Four years ago, when I took my students to Switzerland, a pint was €11.90, which is about US$13.

Here in Australia, we are looking at AUD$12.50, which is equivalent to US$9.15:

In conclusion, according to the Ben & Jerry’s Human Development Index, the U.S., Australia and Switzerland are all very highly developed since they all sell Ben & Jerry’s.  However, it is evident that the cost of living is higher in Australia, and still higher in Switzerland, than the U.S. as demonstrated by Ben & Jerry’s being more than twice as expensive in Australia and more than three times as expensive in Switzerland than in the U.S.

My academic superhero is Hans Rosling, a Swedish academic who conducts research on human development statistics.  I am going to tell him about my Ben & Jerry’s Human Development Index and see what he thinks.  Maybe my 1,000 citations are right around the corner!

Reentering the First World, Part Two

First of all, please let me apologize to my loyal blog readers for being absent for the past week.  I was driving from Maryland back to Texas and stopping to visit friends along the way.  I thought I would keep up with my blog while on the road, but in the end nine hours of driving a day plus mandatory (and necessary) social time with friends I haven’t seen in years equaled an exhausted Kelly unable to open her laptop.  But, rest assured, I am back!

Yesterday I arrived in Lubbock, Texas and was greeted by my posse of graduate students- current and former.  Thank goodness they were here to help me unpack my car, move my things from storage to my new house, rearrange furniture, etc.  They are currently scrubbing the toilets and cutting my lawn as I write this.  Totally kidding!  But they did help me with the move-in process which was a huge relief.  And it was a lot of fun because it was a mini-reunion (mini because we were missing a few Phelantologists who have graduated and moved on to bigger and better things).

I spent the better part of last night and this morning unpacking and cleaning, but you know how moves are.  You unpack 20 boxes only to realize you apparently packed all the plates and utensils, but somehow the glasses and bowls missed the boat.  This is made all the more shocking because somehow there are three used toothbrushes and a half empty roll of toothpaste in a box.  I know, I thought the same thing, Why in the world would I keep those for almost 15 months? Ewwwww….

Around 10 this morning I had a pretty comprehensive list of items I needed to purchase to make my new digs more habitable and so I ventured out to the store.  I know I arrived back in the U.S. about a month ago, but I’ve been so busy with conferences, social visits and family vacations that I haven’t spent any time doing normal day-to-day stuff- like going to the store.  This morning’s visit to Market Street (a grocery store) was a bit overwhelming.  I went in with a list of about a dozen things to buy.  But as I perused the aisles I kept thinking, Oh wow! They have XYZ product?  I should totally get one of those!......  They have ABC!  That’s amazing!  I haven’t seen one of those in…. hmmm…. a year, if not longer.  I definitely need that too…...  I don’t even know what this thing is!  But it looks AWESOME!  I’m totally getting this.  I don’t know what I’m gonna use it for, but I’m pretty sure I will LOVE IT! 

In aisle 8B I realized I had a problem.  Actually it was pointed out to me by Tim, a friendly shelf stocker.  I saw canned artichoke hearts and took EVERY SINGLE can off the shelf.  He stood there and watched me do this and said, “Are you sure you need ALL of those?”  I didn’t count them, but I would guess I had at least 100 cans of artichokes in my cart.  In the end I didn’t buy any of them because I realized I probably wouldn’t eat them this week anyway and I could just wait for them to go on sale.  And when they DO go on sale, they will actually be there.

Last night I was visiting with one of my former grad students and her husband.  Joe asked me, “What was the hardest thing about living in Africa?  What is the biggest adjustment coming home?”  I told him that it’s not the big things that make living abroad hard.  I knew before I went to Africa that there would be lots of power outages, that water rationing might mean you couldn’t take showers for days, that there were food shortages, so there were times you would go to the grocery store and there would be no fresh food on the shelf.  But you expect those things.  The things that drive you nuts are the little things.  Here in the U.S. if you need a battery you go to CVS a block away, run in, pick out the battery you need, pay for it and get out of there.  It should take 5 minutes or less to run that errand.  But that’s not how it works in Africa.  That task could take you all day, or several days.  (Remember when I tried to get my university ID?)

The best example of the little things driving you nuts involved two monkeys, a toothbrush, and what else? A condom.  Because in the end everything (in Africa) involves a condom, right?

One day I was in my house in Botswana, working at my desk on the first floor.  I heard a lot of commotion upstairs and went up to investigate.  Two monkeys had gotten into the house through my open bedroom window and were tearing my bathroom apart.  In the scuffle to get them out of there they knocked my face cream and toothbrush into the toilet.  Now, I wasn’t happy about the face cream because do you have any clue how difficult it is to find face cream for a white person in Africa?  Answer: Very hard.  But I could live without face cream.  I could NOT live without a toothbrush.  I finally got the monkeys out of the house and set out for the store to buy a new toothbrush.  It took me seven hours to (I think) nine or ten different stores in search of a toothbrush.  In the second to the last store I looked around, was unable to find a toothbrush and so I asked for assistance.  The store clerk said they did not have any toothbrushes, but instead offered me a box of condoms.  Though I desperately attempted to keep my cool I failed.  I started flailing my arms and told him, “I CANNOT CLEAN MY TEETH WITH THAT!!!!”  Thinking back on that now I remember the clerk nonchalantly shrugging as if to say, “Hey lady, here’s your option.  If you don’t like it, oh well.”

They say a lot of people who move overseas experience culture shock.  Many individuals also have similar challenges adjusting when they come home.  I suppose the artichokes are my reverse culture shock.  When I was at Market Street today I also stopped to stare at the wall of a thousand toothbrushes.  Sadly, Tim was there for that too.  I thought I was using my inner monologue when I said, “Wow, so many toothbrushes.  They are beautiful.”  But when Tim responded and said, “Yes, we have lots of toothbrushes.  But remember, you can only use one at a time” I thought it best to tell him, “I’m not strange.  I’ve been living in Africa.  I haven’t seen most of this stuff in forever.”  He nodded his head as if he truly understood me and said, “Well, in that case, we are open 24 hours, take your time looking around.” 

Little America

Last week I was in San Diego for a conference.  When the conference ended I went to San Francisco for a few days to visit my friend Brian.  I had never been to San Fran before, so while my first priority was visiting Brian and his family whom I hadn’t seen in over a year, a close second was checking out the city.  One of our excursions took us to Chinatown, which is the largest Chinatown outside of Asia, and the oldest in North America.  The funny thing about all that stuff being sold in Chinatown… is that it is all made in India!  I took great pleasure in picking up all the little trinkets, turning them over, anticipating a “Made in China” tag, only to be shocked upon reading, “Made in India” instead.  What IS the world coming to?

Somewhere between the fortune cookie factories, the foot reflexology massage advertisements and the Indian made chopsticks, I was reminded of a conversation I had with some friends about a similar phenomenon... Little America.

Believe it or not, Africa is not typically known for being culinarily sophisticated or diverse, but there is evidence to the contrary.  There are at least three established Chinatowns on the continent, in Madagascar, Mauritius and South Africa; Mombasa, Kenya hosts a huge annual Oktoberfest; and Johannesburg has a Little Italy.   One afternoon I was sitting in the lounge at Joburg Airport with some recently acquired single serving friends discussing these types of ethnically-centered communities.  A Brit made the comment (in the way only a Brit could say it), “I don’t understand, why aren’t there any Little Americas?”  To which I responded (as only an American could), “Of course there are!  In fact there are several thousand of them.”  After a belated pause for effect and the expected exchange of confused glances I continued, “And you have all been there, likely many times.  It is called McDonald’s!”

The mention of McDonald’s sent the conversation off on a completely different tangent, one in which only a tourism professor could dominate, and so I did.  My companions began debating the merits of McDonald’s, the menus selected according to geographical region and questioned why some countries have a never-ending supply of McDonald’s, while other areas, particularly the large majority of Africa were McDonald’s-free zones.  Even the Brit admitted, “The last four months in Zimbabwe have been the longest of my life.  I would have killed for a Big Mac.”  There are only five African countries with McDonald’s restaurants: Morocco, Egypt, South Africa, Mauritius and Reunion Island.  The other 49 countries are sans-Mickey-D’s.  In case you are curious as to why McDonald’s has not infiltrated the continent there is a simple answer: The Golden Arches Theory of Conflict Prevention.

In 1999 Thomas Friedman wrote the book The Lexus and the Olive Tree in which he stated, “No two countries that both had McDonald’s had fought a war against each other since each got its McDonald’s.”  In the Golden Arches Theory of Conflict Prevention chapter, Friedman goes on to explain that McDonald’s will only enter a country that has reached a certain level of economic development, one which supports a middle class that can patronize a McDonald’s establishment.  Once a country has that kind of financial security it becomes a “McDonald’s country,” one which is stable enough not to want to pursue potentially destructive actions, such as wars.

In all fairness, The Golden Arches Theory is not absolute.  In fact, shortly after the book was published NATO bombed Yugoslavia.  The 2006 war between Israel and Lebanon and the current crisis with Russia and Ukraine are other examples which make the theory flawed.  But at the same time, there are countries which could be categorized as possible “McDonald’s countries” which haven’t made the cut.  Namibia and Botswana haven’t been in wars with anyone since independence, 24 years and 48 years, respectively.

Trust me, I am NOT advocating the spread of McDonald’s, particularly into Africa.  I would much rather see these countries develop their own businesses outside of the big brand giants.  But I have to admit, there is nothing more challenging than teaching in Botswana and saying to your class of 100+ students, “Ok, you know how McDonald’s does XYZ?”  You look into the crowd of faces and realize everyone is staring back at you completely clueless as to what you are talking about.  “No, no most definitely do not know how McDonald’s does XYZ, or anything for that matter.  Never mind, give me a second, I can find another example for you.”  At some point in your academic career you think you are pretty well versed in your field.  And then you get a little reality check like this one and remember that learning should never stop.

Here is a map of countries with and without McDonald’s, along with some other interesting facts.  It should be noted there is a mistake on this map: the large red spot in northwest (top left side) Africa is Algeria which does NOT have a McDonald’s.  Instead that should be blue and there should be a red area NEXT to it (on the left) where Morocco lies.  Minor detail, unless of course you are Moroccan or Algerian:

21 Days to Break a Habit

There seems to be some disagreement among “experts” regarding how long it takes an individual to break or form a habit.  This debate was first launched in the 1950s by plastic surgeon Dr. Maxwell Maltz.  Maltz found that when he performed an amputation the patient would continue to “feel” the phantom limb for roughly 21 days.  After the initial three weeks the patient would begin to adjust to his or her new life situation without the missing appendage.  This prompted Maltz to theorize that “it takes 21 days to break (or form) a habit.”  However, more recent studies have found that it takes on average more than two months- 66 days to be exact- for a behavioral alteration to occur.  It looks like I have a ways to go.

Today marks my one-week anniversary back in the U.S. of A. But, my adjustment has been…. slow. To say the least.  The day after I returned home my brother asked me to watch him play lacrosse.  I left the house and got in the car only to discover…. the steering wheel was in front of the other seat.  I continue to make this mistake on a regular basis.  I figure this is karma for making fun of all my visitors to Africa who would try to enter the car on the driver’s side and I would ask them, “Are you planning to sit in my lap?”  Here I am, yet again, trying to drive while sitting in the passenger’s seat:

Last weekend my dad and I were out running errands and stopped for lunch.  The server asked what I wanted to drink.

Kelly: Can I have a Coke Light please?

Server: A what?

Kelly: A Coke Light.

Server: Well, I don’t know what a Coke Light is, but we don’t serve Coke here.

Kelly: (confused, thinks for a minute) You don’t have Coke? What do you have? (At that moment I had no clue there was any soda product besides Coke.)

Server: We serve Pepsi products.

Kelly: Ok, then can I have a Pepsi Lite?

Server: What’s that?

Dad: I think she wants a Diet Pepsi.

Server: Then why didn’t she say that?

The back and forth with the server actually went on much longer, but I won’t bother you by supplying you with the entire transcript of that conversation.  I think it will suffice to say she thought I was an idiot and customer service post-soda dialogue was sub-par.  By the way, there is NO Pepsi in Africa.  Africa is strictly a Coca-Cola continent.  Talk about a monopoly.  Oh, and in about 2/3 of Africa it is only served in glass bottles, no cans or plastic bottles like in the U.S.

This afternoon I went to the grocery store.  I waited in line, the cashier rang up my gallon of milk, and then asked me, “How do you want to pay for this?”  I was going through my wallet, which you may remember has about ten different currencies still in it, and was taken aback by the question.   Wondering if this was a trick question I said, “Ummm… U.S. dollars?”  The cashier and I stared at one another for what felt like an eternity before she finally said, “I mean cash or credit?”  Kelly: “Sorry, my bad, here,” as I shoved a five dollar bill in her hand.

There you go.  I can say with great confidence it definitely takes more than one week to break (or form) a habit.  Let’s just hope I don’t continue to drive on the wrong side of the road for the next two months- it is terrifying when I realize there is someone driving straight at me.

The Candy Ladies

In my class recently we were discussing the history of the tourism industry.  As I was covering some of the major highlights I asked them to finish the phrase, “All Roads Lead to …”  The answer I was given was Palapaye.  I couldn’t possibly fathom their reasoning, but after examining a map to make sure I knew what they were referring to, I realized their hypothesis was logical.  Here in Botswana, if you want to go north from Gaborone you go through Palapaye.  If you want to go from South Africa to Zimbabwe, you go to Palapaye.  Nevertheless, I told them the phrase as it is known to the rest of the world is “All Roads Lead to Rome” because the Roman Empire developed the first extensive road system to connect all their cities and provinces.  With the rise of the road system, travel throughout the Roman Empire became quite commonplace.  In fact, tourists would go sight-seeing, use guidebooks and tour guides to enhance their understanding of various areas, and collect souvenirs to take home with them.

Over the years I’ve collected my share of souvenirs and passed many on to friends.  Until my early-20s I collected postcards.  Friends would send them to me from wherever they visited.  And I would send them to myself as well.  Having a pristine, unsent postcard with no message just seemed a waste, hence why I would send myself postcards.  I have countless cards that read, “Dear Kelly, Having a great time.  Wish you were here.  Oh wait!  You are! Even better.  Be home soon, Kelly.”  I no longer collect postcards, but I still have over 500 packed away.  Once I began making money and could afford more costly souvenirs for myself I began collecting clothing.  I bought a silk jacket in China recently, a sari in India, and I still have my kuspuk from my time in Alaska.

My graduate student, Matt, likes to collect gum.  Each time I travel overseas I bring him gum.  As a result of this request I think of Matt every day when I pass a Candy Lady.  All over town you see little tables which are set up on highly travelled pedestrian paths where women make their living selling little candies and gum.  Imagine Halloween and the packages of mini candy bars you buy to hand out to Trick-or-Treaters.  Essentially these women will buy those packages, break them apart and sell the candies one piece at a time.

To us, it might seem like a difficult way to make a living.  And apparently, it is.  I see the same two Candy Ladies each morning on my way to campus.  I occasionally buy something simply to make conversation and help them out a bit.  A candy is typically about 1 pula which is equivalent to a little less than 12 cents.  I asked one of the Candy Ladies recently how much she would need to make in order for her to consider it a successful day.  She told me 100 pula is good.  That is about $11.75 A DAY!

From the customer perspective the Candy Ladies may be the only way they can afford these treats.  To buy these packages of candies in the stores may be more than most can spare, but most have an extra pula or two in their pocket and can enjoy their favorite sweet one little piece at a time.

One By One

Each time I go to the grocery store, I agonize over which queue to join.  Selecting the correct line in which to stand in is a challenge.  Somehow it seems I always stand in the wrong one.

I particularly loathe going to the grocery store here in Botswana.  There are many reasons for this.  First of all, it seems like it is perpetual chaos.  There are people everywhere, moving in every which direction.  Many walk right down the middle of an aisle, but no one walks in a straight line.  It’s as if everyone is drunk because they swerve from side to side.  Thus, walking in the middle of the aisle, while moving inconsistently, makes it nearly impossible for an expedient person (i.e. ME) to move around WWC (walking while confused) patrons.

Unfortunately the off kilter walking is only one part of the problem.  You also have to contend with the fact that apparently, no one intends to do anything aside from shop on this given day.  Most customers walk with no sense of urgency.  This translates into most people walking (on their feet) at the same pace with which I can probably walk on my hands.  I have never walked on my hands before, but if I did I’m sure I would move very slowly, making little if any progress.  There is no such thing as, “I’m just going to run in and buy a gallon of milk.  Wait in the car; I’ll be back in 5 minutes.”  Subjecting someone to “waiting in the car” means they will almost certainly die of heat exhaustion as they will no doubt be waiting all afternoon.

So, let’s say you manage to navigate a path through the drunken, slow walkers.  That’s great.  Except the store doesn’t have what you want.  A fun experiment- if you are feeling particularly patient and willing to accept mediocrity- is to ask a store employee for assistance.  I know I’ve discussed customer service before and the fact it is a foreign concept here.  Then there is the language barrier which is always interesting.  But as a general rule, no one appreciates questions because the customer is bothering them.  This means you will get a convoluted, nonsensical response.  Here’s an example: KVP: “Can you please tell me where I can find the milk?”  Store Clerk: “Blue.”  Exactly, nonsensical.

But truly, the worst part is the line.  Here’s how a line works in Botswana: customer gets to front of line having taken nothing out of his trolley (shopping cart).  One by one he takes an item out of the cart and places it in front of the cashier who scans it.  The customer watches the computer screen which keeps a running total of how much is owed.  When the customer reaches the limit of how much money he has in his pocket he abandons the cart IN ITS PLACE!  He doesn’t move it to the side.  He doesn’t apologize to the person behind him for leaving a half empty cart in his way.  He pays and walks away.

This is the result:

That’s right.  Some poor shop clerk is relegated to rounding up all the half empty carts deserted at check out.  My only issue with this practice is that there is no attention paid to perishable items.  There might be milk or butter or a frozen item sitting in a cart all day before someone from the store gets around to putting it back on a shelf.  I guess I should be happy I haven’t gotten food poisoning yet.  Of course, I am also happy that I don’t have to live so frugally that I can’t afford everything I want to purchase.

Packing Your African Bug Out Bag

I recently received a note on one of my blog posts from my friend Lisa who said that my daily stories provide excellent dinner table conversation for her and her husband.  She mentioned that her family was preparing to move to a natural disaster zone where there were occasional snake problems.  Having read about my experience with the cobra she was concerned about how to handle the situation if a snake entered her home because she couldn’t call the Botswana army to do a snake extraction in Florida.  Lisa recounted a conversation with her husband in which the two of them wondered, “What else do you think Kelly would recommend for survival in a natural disaster area?”

Back in Texas we have a faculty member on staff who is always talking about emergency preparedness and “honoring the threat.”  I’m afraid to visit his home because he describes it like a James Bond type of hideout.  Apparently he has a giant knife, hand grenades or a rocket launcher hidden behind every door, including under the sink of his guest bathroom.  In addition, Dr. Bond likes to discuss the importance of a Bug Out Bag in his classes.  For those of you who may be less familiar, a Bug Out Bag is basically a bag which you always have packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice in the event you have to evacuate unexpectedly due to an emergency.  Here are the contents of my Bug Out Bag, which I also travel with, here in Africa:  

1. Duct Tape.  Duct tape can be used to plug holes in screens to keep the mosquitoes out, to hold your luggage together when it gets ripped, or to keep you from bleeding to death.  I once cut my hand badly on a tin roof.  It was a Sunday afternoon so there were no hospitals open and I was leaving on a flight to Amsterdam the next morning.  No matter what I did the cut wouldn’t stop bleeding.  I duct taped a washcloth around my hand until I got to Amsterdam and could get stitches. 

2. Wedding Ring.  Since I can’t travel with my fake husband I can at least travel with my fake wedding ring.  I am also 11 weeks pregnant and have been exactly 11 weeks pregnant for over a year now.  Fidelity is not taken seriously here, so saying you have a husband and showing the ring as proof does not deter very aggressive, unwanted advances.  But motherhood is highly respected.  Plus research shows that if a woman tells her rapist she is pregnant her attacker is less likely to complete the assault, so I have used this little fib as a preemptive warning in a few particularly scary situations.

3. Hand Sanitizer and Toilet Paper.  Nine times out of ten it is more hygienic to use a bush to relieve yourself than to use a public toilet if you are outside the confines of your home/hotel.  But when you are in the middle of the African bush there are no toilets anyway, so you have to use a bush regardless.  Might as well be prepared. 

4. Needles, Malaria Medication, Vaccination Card, Water Purification Tablets.  Fortunately I haven’t had to use the needles yet (fingers crossed I will make it out of here and not need to), but I always bring them with me because you never know what kinds of medical supplies will be available in the event of an emergency.  

5. U.S. Dollars in small denominations.  I think I’ve mentioned corruption a few times before.  The good thing is, if someone is going to bribe you they are more likely to accept U.S. dollars than any other currency.  When I came to Africa this time I brought $5,000 in small bills; I’ve used most of them.  

6. Head Lamp and Lighter.  You may have heard in passing that we have problems with electricity.  Or you may be stuck in a four-star hotel with electricity, but no light bulbs in the sockets.  If you can’t find something safe to set on fire with the lighter then you can always use your headlamp. 

7. Facial Wipes and Goggles.  I think I may have also mentioned once or twice that we have lots of problems with water throughout Africa.  Sometimes you have water, sometimes you don’t.  Sometimes you have water, but it’s dangerous if you get it in your eyes.  In that case you wear goggles in the shower and then wash your eyes out with bottled water or use facial wipes.  

8. Laundry Detergent and Sink Stopper.  The important instruction here is DO NOT USE WHITE LAUNDRY DETERGENT!  White powder=drugs.  So I use blue laundry detergent.  Depending on where I am travelling I often take only three or four sets of clothes and wash them by hand in my sink each night.  But you need to be careful because in many countries you have to iron ALL YOUR CLOTHES in order to kill the mango fly eggs.  If the mango fly eggs hatch on your clothes they burrow under your skin and you can literately feel them moving around underneath the surface.  Then you have to go to the doctor to have them cut out. As a general rule this is not fun. 

9. Sporf, Pens, Tweezers and Nail Clipper. It’s always a good idea to travel with a sporf (spoon-fork-knife combo), because you never know when you might need an eating utensil and there won’t be any available.  Same goes for pens.  Somehow, no one EVER has a writing instrument.  If you don’t bring your own don’t bother asking for one because no one else will have one either.  Since you can’t travel with scissors, tweezers and nail clippers are good alternatives; you can use them when you need to cut something.

I think that pretty much wraps up my African Bug Out Bag.  Though I would recommend snacks as well.  With all the food shortages we have here you can’t be guaranteed you will find something you want/need when you want/need it.  With that being said, here is one final piece of advice concerning snacks:  If you are driving down the road and see a lone orange tree off to the side with giant oranges on it that look SO GOOD just keep driving.  There is a reason no one else has come along and picked them off sooner.  Why?  Land mines.

HAPPY PACKING!

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

Dinner of Champions

After four days in Congo I am… HUNGRY!  I tend to be a pretty adventurous eater, but even I have my limits.  For the past several days my meals have consisted of “vegetables.”  Vegetables are boiled cassava leaves.  I’m not sure that we really use cassava much in the U.S., but it is a starchy vegetable, similar to a potato, sometimes called manioc or yucca.   Point being you normally eat the potato looking vegetable, but in really poor countries, like Congo, you have to take advantage of the whole plant.  So, every time I go to eat I am given boiled cassava leaves.  Guess what they taste like.  Yes! Leaves! Or grass!  I have been able to choke down some of it purely out of guilt, but it is disgusting. I can’t take it anymore.

The other thing I’ve been served AT EVERY MEAL is boiled bananas.  This I don’t understand.  Bananas are so good plain.  Why ruin them by boiling them?  In case you were wondering, I highly advise AGAINST boiling your bananas.  It makes them completely tasteless, so, like the cassava leaves, also not enjoyable.

To round out your meal you get a serving of goat meat.  Now, I’ve had goat meat prior to visiting Congo.  And I liked it prior to visiting Congo.  Now I hate it.  See, we don’t realize how spoiled we are in western countries.  We go to the grocery store and can get boneless chicken breasts.  If you are on a diet and only want white meat, you can get your poultry without dark meat.  Since all the meat is cleaned ahead of time and the various parts of the animal are separated according to what people like to purchase, you could go your entire life without ever eating, or seeing, the heart or what we consider to be the other “throw-away” parts.  Here nothing is thrown away.  And when you are being served they just give you whatever part of the goat rises to the top of the stew when they dip the ladle in.  Thus, the goat meat typically has fat, some, SOME, emphasis on SOME meat which we would consider edible, skin, and then connective tissue.  I am convinced I have been served arteries and part of a heart at least once.  Oh, and bones, lots of bones.

Thank goodness I didn’t do a year of Fulbright in Congo.  I would have struggled.  I’m already struggling after four days.  I told my tour guide I couldn’t take it anymore and I wasn’t interested in eating the rest of my trip.  I brought some snacks with me and insisted I would eat those for the remainder of my time in Congo.  Glad I did some pre-planning.  Tonight I will be dining on some banana chips, beef jerky and dried mango.  I can’t wait:

Hoarders

Have you ever seen the television show, Hoarders?  I haven’t seen the show itself, but I’ve seen a few commercials.  From the clips I’ve watched and comments from friends who are fans, the show is about people who collect massive amounts of stuff to the point where their homes often become overcrowded.

In a conversation with a friend recently I told him, “Since moving to Africa I feel like I’ve become a food hoarder.”  I’ve mentioned before how there is a lack of variety at the grocery store, which has become compounded as the electricity problems have worsened.  Since this has made the availability of food very sporadic I have conditioned myself to buy non-perishable food whenever I travel.  Let me further explain the reason for this is because I cannot eat gluten and most non-perishable foods contain gluten.  Thus, it is practically impossible for me to buy anything here which can be stored on a shelf.  So, whenever I go to Joburg, or through Joburg, I always go to a grocery store because I can get gluten-free items.

On a recent trip I realized this habit may have gotten out of hand because each time I would enter a store I would think I should buy something to take back with me to Botswana.  The good news is that I have plenty of snacks for those long nights when I am forced to eat dinner via headlamp.  The bad news is that I’m afraid I may be classified as a food hoarder.  Here is my loot from a recent trip:

As I was writing this blog post I decided to Google the Hoarders television show.  According to the statement at the beginning of the show, “Compulsive hoarding is a mental disorder marked by an obsessive need to acquire and keep things, even if the items are worthless, hazardous, or unsanitary. More than 3 million people are compulsive hoarders.”  On second thought, calling myself a hoarder maybe a bit strong.  Regardless, I look forward to not having to worry about stockpiling food, toilet paper, sunscreen, or any of those other necessities which are a challenge to locate here but easily available elsewhere in the world.

Botswana’s Super Bowl

Over the weekend I was at a friend’s house and was invited to a Super Bowl party.  “Sure!  What time should I be there?”  “Pre-game starts at 1:30am, so anytime around there should work.”  On second thought, I didn’t feel the need to see the Super Bowl that badly.

Apparently, the Super Bowl is one of very few American sports events broadcast on television here.  But, hey?  Why do we need to watch the American Super Bowl when we have five channels which broadcast 24 hours of our version of the Super Bowl every day?  That’s right, cricket.

I feel like I’ve become much better versed in cricket than before I came here.  I spend countless hours at the gym watching television.  Let me rephrase that: I spend countless hours at the gym on the elliptical. While on the elliptical I am forced against my will to watch television.  What is shown on said television screens? Cricket.  Only cricket. I know, I know, it sounds like a sorry excuse.  I’ve tried reading magazines but find the advertisements distracting.  I can’t read books because apparently my eyes, brain, legs and sense of balance work on the same system, making them unable to work in unison or multitask.  And the sound on my iPhone recently died, so I can’t even listen to music.  Since all the machines are pointed toward the televisions anyway it is hard to not watch.

My gym has three televisions on the wall.  Here’s the thing, they all show cricket, ALL THE TIME.  In a previous post I mentioned how sometimes I will be watching a cricket match on one screen, getting highlights from the same match on the second screen, while the MVP from the match is being interviewed about that same exact match on the third screen.

Now, I should mention here in Botswana we don’t have the fancy commercials you see during the Super Bowl.  Sadly, I still haven’t taken the time to Google the most popular Super Bowl commercials yet.  (I know; That sounds terribly unpatriotic.) But I understand the most popular one had something to do with a dog.  I’m sure it was adorable.  Like I was saying, we don’t have commercials- yet- but we are moving in that direction.  We do however, have corporate sponsorship.  Even for the young ones! 

KFC is the only western fast food chain Botswana.  And it has already started to make kids here loyal customers of the KFC brand by sponsoring elementary school cricket teams.  Research shows that children as young as 3-years-old can identify brand names.  So what better way to make kids loyal customers than to feed their tummies, and their childhood fantasies, of playing in the national Super Bowl?