An Ode to the Dictionary

As a child I was very fortunate because my father treated me as his pet project.  To be fair, my mother was very dedicated and loving, and quite frankly the best mom a child could ask for.  But my relationship with my father was different.  Dad approached me the way a coach works with an athlete he intends to transform into a star.

I was never an exceptional athlete and that wasn’t my father’s intention.  He wanted me to be an intelligent human being.  I am not vain enough to say he succeeded, but I do have enough of an ego to admit that he obtained some victories related to that end goal.

Each of the graduate students I have ever worked with have all referred to the “Mighty Red Pen of Phelan” in their dissertation acknowledgements.  I come by that honestly.  Growing up my father would take joy in making my school assignments bleed.  If I asked him to look at a paper he would respond, “Where’s the red pen?”  By the time I reached high school I had become conditioned to hand him my paper and red pen simultaneously.

When I was growing up there was no Internet.  You couldn’t depend on spell check.  And there was no way to Google the meaning of a word.  Instead you had to use a dictionary.  My dad, being a big proponent of the dictionary, would edit my work and circle incorrect words.  It was then my responsibility to open the ever-present red dictionary to find the correct spelling or a replacement word.  This torture allowed me to develop a considerable vocabulary and taught me how to use my words.  This skill has proven invaluable here in Africa.

Last week I went to the mall to purchase new sneakers.  It was quite a chore to find women’s sneakers, but when I finally did, I selected a pair of Nikes and asked for a size 8 ½.

Store Clerk: We don’t sell half sizes.

KVP: It’s an American brand, yes, you do.

Clerk: We have size 7 only.

KVP: Ok, let me see a size 7.

Store clerk brings me a bright orange box which states in large font: size 9 ½.

KVP: See, this is a 9 ½. I need an 8 ½.  Can you find a box that says 8 ½ right here?

Clerk: No, we don’t have half sizes.

KVP:  Ok, can you bring me a size 6?

The clerk returns with a box that says 8 ½.  Here it is:

Can you see the 6?  It took me a good 5 minutes of staring at the box to see in teeny tiny letters UK_6.

This lack of understanding is a constant part of daily life here.  The other day I was having a conversation with someone in which she kept repeating the same question.  I kept answering her, each time using different words and phrases.  She continued using the same exact way of asking the question.  Eventually I had to say to her, “You keep repeating yourself and I keep trying to give you different variations of what I think is the correct answer.  Obviously you aren’t liking anything I’m saying, so we have a failure to communicate.  At this point I need you to please tell me what you want me to say because we aren’t getting anywhere.”  This was one example of my failure in the communication arena, but typically I am much more successful with this type of exchange. Nevertheless, I think my creativity in communicating has definitely been enhanced here.

Now Now

When I was preparing to move to London over 15 years ago I was given a book of British Slang.  It was actually a relatively large book, probably 150+ pages, and ended up serving me well.  Plenty of the words and phrases I never used, but terminology like “dodgy,” “bollocks,” “chat up,” “gutted,” “fanny around,” and my personal favorite, “blast!” were around me daily, so it was nice knowing ahead of time what the locals were talking about. Keep in mind, I lived in London B.H.P. (before Harry Potter) so few of us had been regularly exposed to this kind of language, unlike present-day Potterheads.

Unfortunately, Botswana does not have a slang dictionary for new arrivals.  Instead, you have to learn as you go.  I recently watched someone have the following conversation:

Foreigner: I love fat cakes.

Motswana: Is it?

Foreigner: Is it what?

I have a number of visitors who will be dropping by from overseas in the next few months, so let me give you a crash course in Batswana English:

Is it?- This essentially means the same thing as “Really?” Above noted conversation should have been more along the lines of “I like fat cakes.” “Is it?” “Yes, they are my favorite.”

Howzit?- Translation: “How are you? What’s going on? How ya doin’?”

Shame!- This conveys a sense of compassion or empathy.  If I told someone I had to miss a party because I was sick the response would be, “Oh, shame!” meaning “That’s too bad.”

Big- Much.  In America I would say, “Thank you very much,” In Botswana I “Thank you very big.

Now- If someone uses the word “now” it means whatever they have just promised you MIGHT happen sometime before they die, but it most definitely will NOT happen now.  This could mean ANYTIME in the future, just no time in the NEAR future.

Now, now- This is what you want to hear! “Now, now” means immediately.  Anytime I am on a call with someone and want to clarify they are on their way I always ask, “You are coming now, now?”  If they aren’t coming now, now, then chances are they haven’t gotten out of bed and they were probably sleeping in a neighboring country anyway, so there is little if any chance I will actually see him this century.

This concludes today’s lesson.  Thank you for your attention.  With that being said, visitors, please come to Botswana now, now; I miss you very big and can’t wait to find out, “Howzit?”

I Would Like to Buy a Hamburger

Recently I began taking Setswana lessons.  Thankfully these are going significantly better than my driving lessons did.  Every Tuesday and Thursday at 1pm I go to Mma Moeketsi’s house on Zebra Way across from the Gaborone Sun for about an hour.  We sit at her dining room table and she instructs me on proper pronunciation, intonation and basic Setswana phrases.  I have no real desire or expectation to become fluent, but I am doing this to enhance my ability to communicate with my students, and locals.

I find Setswana to be more challenging than other languages I’ve learned.  It uses the same Roman alphabet as English, Spanish and French, so I would have thought it would be easier than Russian.  But the number of different sounds for each letter is what gets me.  There are four different sounds for “e” and no real logic behind which one to use when.

During the relatively limited interactions I’ve had with deaf individuals, I notice they look very intently at speakers’ lips.  I’ve found myself doing the same thing in hopes of being able to replicate how Mma Moeketsi speaks.  I’m not sure it’s helping though. 

Here is Mma Moeketsi making me repeat a phrase over and over again.  Somehow I can’t quite understand what I’m doing wrong.  But I am very determined, “We don’t quit! We do not quit! Again! Again!”:

Go siame Botswana, Jambo Kenya (Goodbye Botswana, Hello Kenya)

In a few short hours I will be leaving to catch my 1am flight to Kenya.  If it had been up to me I would not be taking a night flight.  Actually, I originally booked a flight for noon, but Kenya Airways decided to cancel all noon direct flights from Gaborone to Nairobi “until further notice.” Thus, this is my only option.

I am going to Kenya for another conference.  This one is about Tourism Development and Ecotourism which is right in line with what I am teaching here in Botswana.  And I already know of at least one friend who will be attending, so it will be nice to see a friendly face from back home.

Kenya has been in the news quite a bit recently.  First there was a fire at the Nairobi airport about a month ago.  More recently there has been a lot of attention on the illegal poaching of elephants for their ivory in Tsavo East national park. Oh! And the Maasai warriors have formed their own cricket team.  In case you were curious, yes, they wear their traditional attire when they compete.  Apparently the team has been quite successful because they have an ingrained skill set which makes them well-suited to cricket.  As one team member told a CNN correspondent in a recent interview, “It is just like throwing a spear.”

For those of you who may be geographically challenged, Kenya is in east Africa, bordering Somalia, Ethiopia, South Sudan, Uganda and Tanzania.  In this map Kenya is green:

I was telling one of my colleagues about my upcoming trip to Kenya.  He is Kenyan and has been a professor here for several years.  But I figured I would ask him for pointers.  He told me, “Everyone will ask you about Obama.  They are very proud to have a Kenyan as President of the United States.  Maybe I can be the next U.S. president!” This could be interesting.

The Late Show (From Botswana) Top Ten

About a week ago, one of my diligent blog followers wrote me a note saying, “I would love [to have] all of these experiences, but I know that I would miss my creature comforts of home.  What do you miss from the US?”  I’ve been giving that question some thought and come up with my Top Ten List.  The list is almost as much about people I miss as it is about the material things or conveniences of home.  Please feel free to read this list and imagine me doing my best David Letterman impression with side commentary from the band.

10. Working bathrooms on campus.  Remember when Hurricane Katrina hit and there were all those thousands of people in the Superdome for days?  And when the people finally emerged they were complaining about the toilets overflowing?  I always felt bad for them, but now I can truly empathize because we have a similar situation, except we aren’t being held hostage inside the building 24/7. My building on campus has not had any running water for seven weeks now. Unfortunately people continue to use the toilets, so you can imagine how unpleasant that is.  Every once in a while I forget and enter one of the bathrooms.  But for the most part I have developed a daily habit of going to use the facilities in another building across campus.

9. Zumba and boxing.  This is pretty self explanatory.  But, like I said, this list is as much about missing people as it is about things.  It feels like forever since I went to Zumba with Shaun and Bryce.  I haven’t found a Zumba class here, but I’m pretty sure even if I did it just wouldn’t be the same.  Speaking of zumba…

8. Impromptu dance parties in my office. Occasionally, during downtime, for instance exam week or in the summer, when things aren’t too hectic I like to listen to music in my office while I’m working.  I almost always have one graduate student in my office at all times, if not three or four of them.  And some of my graduate students (and business managers) are big zumba lovers.  There has been more than one instance where I was working diligently, not even taking note of the song on the radio in the background when Shatina and Amanda have burst into my office performing a Lady Gaga song.

7. Being able to watch a sport I understand.  As I mentioned previously, the only time I get to watch TV is when I am travelling and staying in a hotel or at the gym.  At the gym one television shows nonstop cricket matches, while another is tuned to the Botswana/South African version of ESPN.  Sometimes I will be watching the full length cricket match, while seeing the highlights from the same exact match on the neighboring screen.  I would love to watch some lacrosse, or even American football.  If really desperate I might be able to stomach baseball, but probably only on the ESPN channel.

6. Spending hours roaming the aisles of the food store. (Not really, but I guess I miss the option of wasting a lot of time at the food store if I feel so inclined.) The average American supermarket has 60,000 different items for sale. Here in Botswana we do not have nearly that much variety.  For the most part I’ve been quite content with what I’ve been able to get here, but things have become a little monotonous as of late.  I have become very proficient at cooking impala though, and warthog and kudu.  But when I plan a dinner party I often have to visit multiple stores hoping to find the last package of mushrooms, or I ultimately end up changing my menu because I can’t obtain the ingredients I want.

5. My graduate students.  There are only a few select people in this world who have experienced the “Eyes of Shame” and the “Mighty Red Pen of Phelan.”  No, that’s no entirely accurate.  MOST of my students have experienced both of these at one point or another, but only my graduate students have enough first-hand knowledge of these two phenomena to have named them.  When I’m not ruthlessly editing my graduate students’ papers, we have a lot of fun.  (See #8) While I’ve attempted to duplicate some of those fun times here,i.e. demonstrations, they just aren’t the same. It’s true what they say; nothing is as good as the original.

4. Brian.  Speaking of graduate students, I miss Brian.  Granted, he’s not my graduate student anymore, far from it after almost five years.  But he was always my go-to in Lubbock.  He was always the last person I saw before a trip and the first person I saw when I got back.  Of course, this was because he always took me and picked me up from the airport.  If I saw something funny, chances were I took a picture and sent it to Brian.  And if I needed something heavy moved or fixed, I would call Brian.  Now when something breaks I get on Skype, show it to Brian and he tries to walk me through what to do.  This process is definitely not as seamless now that I live almost 10,000 miles away.

3. A common language.  While most here do speak English, there is definitely a language barrier at times.  Either the word isn’t the same.  (What is an ablution?  Oh, a bathroom! See #10) Or the concept doesn’t exist here. (I spent the first half of class telling my students how to organize an event using a parade as an example. I figured a parade was universal.  Apparently not because when no one said a thing after 20 minutes I asked them if they knew what a parade was and had 126 students reply in unison, “No.”) Or there is some other miscommunication going on.  The other day I tried to buy a plastic sink stopper.  Using hand gestures and multiple explanations did not help as the store clerk gave me a mop, a jar of jelly, DOOM!, and condoms. I felt so bad for the clerk I eventually bought all of items he gave me, but unlike my previous MacGyver episode I still don’t have a sink stopper.

2.  ET(KVP) Phone home.  Sometimes I do feel like an alien from another planet, especially when little kids watch me in awe as I apply sunscreen.  But in reality, the ease of “phoning home” is something I do miss.  Here I can’t text a funny picture to a friend whenever the thought occurs to me.  Skype is great, but between trying to schedule an appointment to talk and then keeping my fingers crossed that the Internet will actually be working when that time rolls around, it just isn’t as easy as whipping out my cell and chatting whenever I like.

1.  My family.  I have a sort of adopted family here in Botswana.  The wife of another Fulbrighter, Brenda, tends to mother me pretty often, which I think is as much for her benefit as it is mine, since I know she misses her five kids and grandchildren.  And as I said in a previous post, the neighborhood kids call me Auntie and recognize me as a pushover.  But NO ONE can replace The Phelans. 

Dumelang Borra Le Bomma

Every day that I teach I always start my class off the same way, “Dumelang borra le bomma.”  This means “Good day gentlemen and ladies.” And every day after I say this the entire class claps and cheers. :)  I’m beginning to wonder when it will get old to them and they will stop doing that.  But I’m certainly not complaining.  I think I’ve decided that when I return to the U.S. I will require all of my classes to clap and cheer for me after I say “Good morning.”

I have to say I am definitely enjoying teaching here.  The students are very attentive and ask a lot of questions.  I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised.  They humor my attempts to speak Setswana and say their names.  And from time to time they teach me short, useful phrases. This afternoon I learned, “Ke a lwala” which means “I am not well.” I have a cold, thus this was quite appropriate today.

Speaking of names, I learned very quickly that my last name is particularly difficult for the Batswana to pronounce.  Most people won’t even make an attempt.  When they do it goes something along the lines of, “Paaa-ha-la-n.” And the “n” is said like the letter N, not the sound.

My Associate Dean actually told me when we first met, “Your surname is particularly difficult to pronounce. Your first name is also strange, but easier.”  Anyone want to take a venture at his name?  Tlongogokli Ketshabilego.  Yes, compared to the 23 letters in his name, the six letters in mine can be tricky.  Here a G sounds like a Ha, when you pronounce a K you must “click” and Rs must be rolled.

Suffice to say, my attempts at Setswana have made me realize how much easier French, Spanish, and even Russian were for me to learn.  And in an effort to accommodate my colleagues’ and students’ needs we have found a much easier form of address.  I am known on campus as Dr. Kelly.

The art of the greeting

One of my favorite things about travelling and living in foreign countries is seeing how other cultures are different from my own.  Some of these cultural intricacies are easily observed through dress, language or cuisine.  I don’t think this can be any more evident as in Dubai where waiting in line to ride to the 124^th (out of 163) floor of the Burj Khalifa you see husbands with multiple wives in full burka attire standing next to western expats in halter tops and miniskirts.  Other customs are present, but may be less easily detected or understood; the greeting being one of the most challenging to comprehend.

Anyone who has spent time in a yoga studio may be familiar with the saying, “Namaste.” In India, “Namaste” is said while pressing the palms of the hands together with the fingers pointing up, simultaneously bowing the head slightly.  This form of salutation is common throughout the Indian subcontinent as non-contact is preferred for hygienic reasons and due to the conservative relationship between the genders. Quite the opposite, throughout various parts of continental Europe, as well as Latin America, cheek kissing is prevalent, even between members of the same sex.  And then there is always Japan, where handshakes are common with westerners, but a bow made at an angle of at least 30 degrees is expected among locals and in interactions between individuals of unequal social status.

Botswana is not unique in having their own customs related to greetings.  In the U.S., passing someone on the street or in the corridor without making eye contact, smiling or saying hello, is more the norm than the exception.  Here, failing to acknowledge someone, even a stranger, is considered a slight, and likely to result in unwanted negative attention.  I’ve learned never to leave my house too close to the start of class as doing so would likely cause me to arrive late after stopping every 30 seconds to wish each passersby “Dumela. O tsogile jang?”

Handshakes here are also have a style all their own. Throughout most of southern Africa a handshake is a three part process.  As in other western societies, the two individuals grasp one another’s right hand, and shake once, up and down.  After the initial shake, the pair link thumbs and grip the wrist of the other person with their fingers. Again, in the linked-thumbs position, there is one shake up and down.  The third and final shake is completed using the same method as the first “normal” shake.  Throughout the handshaking process the left hand rests on the forearm or elbow as a sign of respect.  Failing to engage both arms during the handshake is considered poor form because if the recipient cannot see both hands of the opposing individual, there is no telling what inappropriate actions the missing hand may be partaking in.

While I believe I’ve successfully adopted the proper greeting protocol of my new home, I’m sure there will be plenty of other cultural lessons throughout the next 12 months.  I look forward to embracing those opportunities with open arms, i.e. the hug, my favor way of saying hello.

Related, relevant, and, or...

My department is looking to hire a Lecturer.  A Lecturer position is similar to an Assistant Professor position in the U.S. The person is expected to teach, conduct research and carry out service responsibilities.  However, I learned in a faculty meeting this morning that the hiring process is quite different here.

In the U.S. we don’t hire faculty members sight unseen.  Typically, a faculty candidate will travel to the university for a 2-3 day interview, during which time he will teach a class, do a research presentation and meet with all the faculty and dean.  Here there are no campus interviews.  They don’t even do phone interviews!  Bear in mind this is for a full time position, so if this person is hired he will stay on faculty full time, forever.  Thus, it is important not to hire the wrong person.

Rather than ever speaking to job applicants the hiring decision is made based on a spreadsheet containing information about each person’s qualifications.  We are expected to look at the information and determine, based on the job posting, whether each applicant is “appointable.”  “Appointable” means the person meets the required qualifications and is eligible for hire.  If ANYONE on the list of candidates is appointable, then someone must be hired. Thus, even if we know we don’t like a person, but that person is appointable, we are expected to hire that individual.

Ok, now that you have the background information, we had five applicants for the Lecturer job.  Three were “not appointable” because they either didn’t have a graduate degree already or were missing some other major requirement.  So these three were straightforward.  However, the other two were mediocre.  We didn’t really like them and didn’t want to hire them, but they were decent.  However, the department chair insisted we make a ruling on them.  And he kept reminding us that if one of them was deemed apointable that we would have to hire that person.  Apparently he must go before a university-wide board explaining the department’s decision as to who was appointable, who wasn’t, why the decision was made, and other seemingly bizarre questions.

As I was saying, we didn’t like the two candidates who appeared to be qualified.  Both candidates had graduate degrees in Environmental Sciences, not Tourism, which was our preference.  We referred back to the job posting which stated, “Applicants MUST have: a Master’s Degree in Tourism or RELATED fields, Bachelor’s Degree in the RELEVANT discipline, show evidence of engagement of research AND service.” For clarification, I added the capitalizations and bolding.

We spent no less than an hour discussing whether Environmental Sciences was a RELATED field or RELEVANT.  Finally, we came to the agreement that it was related, but not relevant enough to qualify the person to teach Tourism courses.  (Yes, you would have loved to have been a fly on the wall in this meeting!) However, we still needed to address the last part of the sentence: whether the person demonstrated “evidence of research AND service.”  I immediately pointed out neither candidate had research experience.  To which someone else replied, “Yes, both they both have service.”  Naturally I took my observation of the RELATED versus RELEVANT argument and used it to my benefit, “Yes, but the advertisement states ‘evidence of research AND service.’ It doesn’t say research OR service.  Since neither have both research AND service they both fail to meet the requirements.  I vote they are both unappointable!”

In the end we decided neither candidate met the requirements and elected not to hire anyone.  It only took 2 hours and 38 minutes to reach that conclusion.  I have to admit, after the first hour of this meeting I think I had a smile plastered on my face permanently because it was all I could do not to laugh.  I just thought the entire debate about the EXACT meaning of words was ridiculous.  But apparently when you are told to “choose your words carefully” you should really make an effort to do so because you never know when you are going to have to defend them in a fight to the death.  I believe from now on I will have to carry a dictionary wherever I go, just in case.