- There is such a large selection of gum at the grocery store
- A conversation with someone I worked with, talking about me doing gymnastics with the kids occasionally. Him: “Were the kids all black? I lived near an apartment complex once where all the little black kids were doing back handsprings and jumping off hills.”
- Watching some home repair show, being disgusted at the wastefulness and unnecessity of it all. Casually throwing around $130,000 to renovate this already-useable house? What an insane amount of money to just throw around like that.
- There are so many diverse (and unnecessary, and probably expensive) products in my Mom’s kitchen/pantry/fridge. I forgot these things even existed.
- The traffic in Dallas has at least doubled since I left. I hate traffic.
- “Did you see a hippo in Africa?”
- Trying to explain to people how cold it truly gets in some parts of Africa. Yes, I was in the mountains! It snowed!
- “So what was your favorite thing?” How am I even remotely supposed to attempt an answer to that, the vaguest of questions?
- Eating lunch with Mom’s cousins, it was the first time I could have a real conversation about specifics (as opposed to questions like the unanswerable one above) and have an informed discussion. They had been following my blog, so they were constantly informed about what I was doing there. What a relief to have people ask me pertinent questions.
- It is SO AWESOME to be able to work out in a real gym and do gymnastics again. My body and soul are happy.
- While driving, I had to be very careful not to drift out over the right side of the lane. I had been used to driving on the right side of the car where the driver is more in the right side of the lane, so I had to actively concentrate on placing myself in the left half of the lane. Also, my left foot wanted to step on a clutch that wasn’t there.
- A conversation with one of my little gymnasts. Her: “Was it fun living in Africa?...Or was it strange?” Me: “Both. Definitely both.”
- I got forwarded an email about a neighborhood party at one of the fancy houses. The email included affected words like “lagniappe,” and included myriad examples of the frivolities that would be involved. I was just thinking, “What the heck? What is wrong with these crazy rich white people? What a stupid, unimportant waste.”
- I had some good, semi-informed questions, like what the literacy rate was, and if it was hard for my students to learn English when the teachers teach in the mother tongue (Yes. Extremely.). I was also asked why all the kids shave their heads (because of cleanliness and it’s part of the dress code), and as a dumb follow-up question, if that was the reason I shaved mine (no…).
- While teaching in Lesotho, I had to choose my words very carefully because my students didn’t speak fluent English. While coaching, it was so nice to be able to explain in full English using precise words, even sarcasm, and not having to think so hard when speaking.
- Washing machine! I never did reach a point where I was hand-washing my clothes without any resentment at the giant time- and energy-suck it was. The washer was the one time-saving device I missed the most in Lesotho. Though I don't use it nearly as much as I did before I left for Lesotho, because even being back in the US, I am re-wearing my clothes many times like I got so used to doing.
- People asked me how Africa reacted to Trump’s election. Same as you: utter disbelief.
- I bought a car! Freeeedommmm! No more waiting hours for public transportation or for a hitch!
- A relative asked me what was next after I finished my blog, and that it’ll be sad when it’s over. I just replied that I would take that as an excuse to go do another new, awesome thing so I could start another one!
- I took a “check my privilege” quiz online, which consisted of checking boxes if you had experienced a certain situation where you were disadvantaged because of your appearance/background/situation/identity. There were ones like, “check if you have never been the only one of your race in a room” or “check if no one has ever asked (or not asked and just went for it) to feel your hair.” Check! Although these clearly were questions targeted toward minorities in America, they backfired with me, who ironically, partly because of my privilege, was able to go to live in Lesotho in the first place. Now that I’m back in the US, I am HYPER aware of my privilege. Living in a rural village in a developing country will give you all kinds of comparative perspective on life.
- Out of habit, still trying to conserve phone battery by putting it into Airplane mode, even though there is electricity everywhere I go.
- When paying for something, asking people if they take cards and being met with a look that says, “…Yeah…duh.” Most places I have most recently lived operate with only cash, OK? Gah.
- About to turn 26, looking for affordable individual health insurance, so fed up at the whole system, being convinced that it’s all a conspiracy and a scam. This is one of the things (other than the aforementioned presidential situation) that is convincing me that getting out of the US may be one of my better options at this point.
Sunday, July 30, 2017
July 2017: Reintegration / new job!
Monday, July 17, 2017
Article: "Yes, Macron’s 'civilizational' Africa statement is problematic but it’s also very French"
When studying at Sciences Po in Paris, I took a class, with a French professor among mostly French students, about France's colonial history in Africa. It always made me uncomfortable that the French were slightly self-congratulatory about their "civilizing mission" given everything they managed to screw up there. Having lived in France as well as living/traveling through different parts of Africa, I found this an interesting read. Africa is not a homogenous pit of savages. Yes, many countries on the continent have their share of problems, but doesn't every country have their own issues (Hello, Trump's America)? It's not France's place to determine what needs "saving."
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
Small Thoughts 27: Côte d'Ivoire
Apologies for forgetting about posting this, the last Africa edition of the most essential Small Thoughts series, after writing about Côte d'Ivoire. Liberia Small Thoughts have been scattered through the posts as cultural notes. Enjoy!
Taxis: Inch'allah, Le Bonheur, Beau Merci, Le Pardon, Dieu Merci, Tout Est Possible, Dieu Est Dieu, La Patience, Bonne Chance, Un Peu Un Peu, General, I Remember, Prend Courage, Chacun Sa Chance, Tous Ensemble, Lass Vegass, J'aime Ma Mère,
Man, I am getting exceptionally talented at sitting on my butt for hours and hours and hours on various forms of transportation.
People drive on the right side here. Whaaattt? I didn't notice until my airport shuttle went counterclockwise around a roundabout then I was probably as confused as I was when I got to Southern Africa to see traffic going on the left. The things you get used to...
Lizards doing push-ups is probably my new favorite thing that animals do.
I just got greeted with a hearty "Bonsoir!" (Good evening!). It's 3 pm. I mean, there is a heavy cloud of pollution partially blocking the sunlight, but come on.
The West African French accent sounds strangely like the Canadian French accent for vowel sounds, but with a Spanish R.
I love the different sounds people use to call attention all over the world. Here, there's a little of the hissing like in Mozambique, but mostly people make a kissing noise.
There are women here in Abidjan carrying trays of bread on their heads, but the coolest thing is that they're all in this huge bag that they fluff up with air and then tie off, creating a tall bubble above the loaves.
Seen on a tshirt copying the Red Bull logo, but with upside down bulls: Dead Bull. Gives you mince.
Bus time play by play:
On this bus across Côte d'Ivoire, I have the good fortune to have been assigned a middle seat. I have the even better fortune to have been reduced to half a middle seat, as the window seat lady's butt is taking up half of mine. Yayyyy...
It has taken us at least an hour to actually get out of the city.
Now they're playing music videos on the tv up front. Man, Ivoiriens really like big butts shaking all they've got. Pretty much every video is butt-centric.
A guy handed out shrimp candies to everyone, and is now doing a combination preaching and trying to sell some kind of medication in the aisle. Is he a passenger, or has he just hopped on to try to sell stuff?
An hour and a half later, Mr. Snake Oil is still preaching and selling. Ughhh. Sit down.
Now we've stopped for a pee break and are waiting for a long time, then people are saying that one of the passengers is still outside and is sick. He just stumbled up into the bus and collapsed into a chair. What is happening?
Squishing up against Ms. Booty is actually not that bad, considering her side butt is giving me a bit of an armrest.
We're in the home stretch and had to stop for like half an hour because a truck carrying enormous logs has perhaps crashed but definitely blocked the whole road with spilled trees.
It seems to be quite the fashion trend here for men to wear those plastic jelly sandals I wore in elementary school.
Overheard at the taxi rank while waiting for my taxi to fill, 2 guys looking at me: "Elle est chinoise." "She's Chinese." Umm not quite, but good try.
Ok this makes the second guy to come up and tell me I'm Chinese. What's the deal?
Friday, June 23, 2017
12 February 2017: Monrovia, and leaving Africa :(
Wednesday, June 21, 2017
Mountain biking in Lesotho
A cool slideshow of some guys mountain biking through Lesotho:
https://www.outsideonline.com/2193731/lesotho-secret-mountain-bike-paradise#slide-1
Sunday, June 18, 2017
5 February 2017: Liberia- Kakata
It was my last day in Milea’s home sweet home of Duoplay. It also happened to be a day that Milea’s school’s teachers decided to have a party. Milea and I sat on the front porch of the principal’s house talking with the other teachers, and I made a small speech thanking them for their hospitality and remarking upon my enjoyment of spending a good amount of time in their little town. There was a small black goat tied up out front that we were admiring for its potential in the very near future to feed us all. Soon it was time for the cooking. The goat was led around back to fulfill its potential, and back there some women were already boiling cassava and pounding it into GB (the play dough starchy mass we all know and love). After Milea and I got our turns to pound the GB, we went around front to where people were already enjoying some fresh palm wine. Shortly, the goat soup was ready, and we all heartily ate it. Balls of GB were scooped up and dipped in the soup, and entire hands went slurpily into mouths to savor each last delectable drop. After only the weird tripe bits were left in the pot and Milea and I were sufficiently overstuffed, we thanked the hosts and excused ourselves from the feast, leaving the rest of the guests, full of goat and palm wine, to chat amongst themselves into the night.