Short Break (Spring Break)

For the record this post is written with my partially repaired laptop cable that is working well but does constantly threaten me with electrocution.

So after my last midterm on Wednesday I was "free." That was the unofficial beginning of my spring break, as the rest of my classes for the week were canceled. I say "free" because as of Wednesday my plans for the break were still TOTALLY up in there. I knew I wanted to travel, and I knew I was going by myself because I had arranged to tag along with some other people, but I found out that they had gone and made plans without me.
I quickly decided that what I wanted to do was go places by myself that I thought other people might not want to go. That narrowed the list very quickly. Most people would be too nervous to go to Zimbabwe (I have on good authority that I have nothing to fear), and Lesotho (one of my obsessions ever since I had learned of its existence) is at best a niche country which most people would not care for. So there it was.
The problem was I had to do all the planning myself, because I was going by myself. No small feat. I also learned that for the exact reasons I wanted to go, planning would be a challenge. Namely, that due to low tourist figures infrastructure was limited. Finding a bus into Lesotho is impossible and finding one to the Great Zimbabwe was very limited. After much searching I came up with a plan and set about setting it into action.

(my "plan")

What I found was a challenge at every turn. The internet resources for most of the places I was going where limited. I was able to only purchase three bus tickets so far.
I leave Sunday (tomorrow) morning at 6:30 AM and still I am unsure of how I am getting from Bloemfontein to Malealea; I don't have a concrete reservation at the hotel I plan to stay at in Malealea (Lesotho), I have confirmation that they have do have room for me but not technically a reservation; I don't know how I am getting from Malealea to Johannesburg; I know how I am getting from Johannesburg to Masvingo (the town closest the Great Zimbabwe) but I don't have tickets yet there or back; and I don't know how I will get visas to either Lesotho or Zimbabwe, I have been assured that I can get them at the border, but if something goes wrong I might be out of luck.
There are many point along the way where things can go horribly wrong and I will have to simply find something else to do, all I really have is a plan and enthusiasm.
I keep saying "it will be an adventure either way." That has encouraged me along the way, I have never taken a trip like this before, and might never be able to again. I will be totally by myself, totally self reliant, with little more than the clothes on my back. I will also be pushing myself harder than any human really should. I will be gone 5 nights, only two are in hotels, the rest are on buses. I need say little more to demonstrate how physically exhausting this trip will be.
No matter what I plan to have a trip of my lifetime, good or otherwise. I plan to learn a lot about myself, you know how they always say, "you can learn a lot about yourself by how you deal in crisis situation"? Well, one week of constant near crisis, here I come!
That is all I can say for now, I will post about it shortly after I arrive back at school on Friday.
Love to all,
Tommy

My thoroughly cultural weekend

Friday
So Friday night I finally convinced Matt (my American Roommate from Florida) that we should go to this bar we discovered on a field trip in Setswana Class. The bar I was referring to was actually two bars right next to each other. They were both located in a neighborhood called Old Naledi. Old Naledi is the quite possibly the poorest part of Gaborone. It is a community created many years ago to provide quick housing for people moving to the capital to find work. Since its creation many attempts have been made to either move it or do away with it all together but so far all have failed. On one occasion the government tried to get the people who live there to move to a different location but the people simply couldn’t afford to live in the new location. On another occasion the government gave money to the citizens of Old Naledi for them to renovate their homes. To no one’s surprise, except the bureaucrats, the money was all spent, but none of the house improved.
So anyway, we knew full well that this part of town wasn’t the best place and a white tourist would never go here, in fact, even UB students almost never go to Old Naledi, I asked Onkabetse to go along and he laughed and at me and said, “why would I want to go there?” So we went, Matt, Thomas (a german), Thomas (a different german), and me. We got a cab and told him where we wanted to go, he did a double take but eventually we convinced him we were serious and we were on our way. He warned us that, “this part of town is very dangerous and you should be careful,” and as soon as we got out of the cab and paid a police officer approached us and informed us that it was a dangerous place to be. We told him that we had less than 50 pula on us and that our cell phones were not worth more than 100 pula. He was convinced and he reminded us just to use caution.
I realized once we were there that the bar I thought we were going to was actually next to another bar that Matt thought we were going to. We decided collectively that we would try both on for size. First we went into Matt’s bar the ‘Yarona Bar’. It was actually quite quaint inside. Perhaps twenty people standing around three pool tables and a medium sized well stocked bar. Immediately al of us were convined there was little to no real danger here. We stood around for a while and my friends got some drinks and we all sort of agreed that the place was actually surprisingly nice considering the location. Some guys started talking to us and they seemed nice. One guy initially started by saying that a very small patron, that Matt and I had joked “looked 9,” was actually 25 and frequented the bar. Another guy approached and just started chatting. The second eventually launched into a prepared speech about why he loves white people, including, that they are just “so much smarter than black people like me.” (mind you he gave that speech dozens of times throughout the night) Eventually both guys started chatting with us and kept telling us that this bar was a bad place to be, despite our impression that it wasn’t that bad. They said the other bar is so much better you should go there. The two germans thought that this might me some kind of trap so we drug our feet in leaving the Yarona Bar. Eventually I said to Matt that I just wanted to get away from these guys. So when they both disappeared for a minute we scurried out of the Yarona Bar and into the mall area outside. The mall area had as many people dancing, talking, but mostly drinking as either bar did.
We walked across the court and into the ‘Speak Easy Pub’ my pub. It was almost exactly the same as the Yarona Bar. Three pool tables, but more people. The only real difference was the color scheme, the Yarona Bar was painted in Black and Gold (Black Label Beer Colors) and the Speak Easy Pub was in Green and Gold (Hunter’s Gold Beer Colors). Immediately the two guys from the other Bar found us and told us ho much better this place was. One of them disappeared for a minute and a few other guys approached us. These guys also told how dangerous this place was but they all promised if we stuck with them we would be safe. We hung out for a while and the other guys had a few more rounds. The guy who had disappeared came back and said that he had arranged for us to go to the “Cocktail room” which was supposedly some VIP place where we could have even more fun. All of us strictly refused. Sounded a little too shady for us. We were comfortable to stay out in the public part of the Bar.
Finally, it came a time and Thomas said he was ready to leave so we all walked outside, escorted by our “body gaurds” and I called a cab “15-20 minutes” was the response which what they always say, so we knew to expect them in 25-30 minutes. During this time more people kept coming up to us and telling us we weren’t safe, at this point we knew we were pretty safe, but they insisted. One of these protectors was a kid named David who looked about 12 but claimed to be 18 (he was very drunk, for the record, I think everyone but us “White guys” was). He talked to me for a while and then began begging for a pula to buy a cigarette. I told him, “I like you too much to help you kill yourself David, I’m NOT going to buy you a cigarette.” He didn’t like my answer but after a while he gave up, but hung around. After about 10 minutes. David saw someone he thought he knew, and didn’t like. He told me “Don’t talk to that guy he’s dangerous,” I didn’t know what to think, after all David seemed a little sketchy himself but I was willing to take the advice but David felt this guy (who was a lot bigger than David) was getting too close, he started pushing him and throwing punches at this random guy who had clearly never seen David before. We decided we would move closer to where the cab would pick us up and wait there. Finally the cab arrived and we all got in. As we drove off we saw David, with no shirt, still struggling to fight some guy, presumably to protect us. We all laughed.
As we drove away we all agreed that it wasn’t a wholly bad experience and we were glad we had done it, in fact I quite enjoyed myself. We also agreed that none of us really needed to go back. It was the first time that I had felt as if I was doing things that a normal Motswana might do. We asked the cab driver how much danger we had actually been in and it finally came out that the only real threat was that we might have been pick-pocketed. Not real danger in any of our minds.
Overall, I think it was a fun and valuable cultural experience to see a bar, that was not so touristy or polished as what we were used to seeing.
Saturday
I was glad we had turned in Early Friday night because I wanted to get up early Saturday to go to a very special event. In Mochudi, a village about 20 minutes outside Gaborone, they were Coronating a new Kgosi.
On a linguistic note, I use the word Kgosi here based on a discussion we had in my archaeology class. We discussed that a Kgosi is the Setswana word for Chief, but it can also mean king. In my experience it has been, in the past, the habitat of some scholarship to use the word to imply primitive social organization and as such, inferior people when compared to the ‘kings’ of Europe. So while it is not entirely accurate to use the word King, it is unsatisfactory to use the word Chief, so Kgosi is the best possible word to use.
I felt that this was quite an opportunity to really see a part of the culture that an outsider has to be pretty lucky to see.
I met Thomas at 8am (way too early for a Saturday, but the event actually started at 7am so this was a comprimise) near our dorms and we set off. We caught a Khombi (a minibus used for public transport) to the Bus station where we caugh a bus to Mochudi, another guy on the Bus was headed the same place so he agreed to lead us. We caught one more Khombi in Mochudi and walked a little ways further before we finally arrived at the Kgotla at 9:30. The Kgotla is the center of the village where tribal proceedings take place.

(A sign denoting the Kgotla area)

Even when we were a ways away we know we were getting a close because there was already a mass of people all over including on top of a nearby rock outcropping overlooking the village. We walked in and the guy leading us led us right into a huge crowd near the front. I decided I didn’t like where I was, I was being pushed and couldn’t see much anyways. I told Thomas I was going out but he wanted to stay so I left him behind.

(These three pictures illustrate how there were people everywhere)

I walked around for a while and found that there was no where I could go to see anything. There were huge loud speakers set up so I could see hear everything but it was all in setswana, no great help. I walked around the perimeter of the Kgosi and noticed a line of unusually nice cars with flags on them, the cars of the dignitaries. Nearby there was also a huge projection screen set up broadcasting closed circuit pictures of the proceedings but there were so many people there that I still couldn’t even see the screen. I continued walking around and went up on the rocks for a while but still couldn’t see. I heard them announce that the next speaker would be Seratse Khama Ian Khama, the President of Botswana, as well as the Kgosi of a neighboring tribe.

(Barely Visible but thats the Prez!!)

I got excited just like everyone else so I finally found a place where I could almost see. It wasn’t great but I could see if I jumped in the air. I couldn’t understand his speech but it was cool to see him speak. Finally I heard “Ke a la boga” the first words I had understood all day, meaning “thank you.” His speech was done, a short speech. I decided to walk around a bit more and found myself staring down a police officer at a barricade. I had my camera around my next with my biggest lens in tow and he asked “are you media?” Ok, so I fibbed and said yes. He let me by and I found a bit better place to see but I still had to be on my toes to see anything.Finally, it was time for the new Kgosi to speak.

(The Kgosi with Leopard Hood)

(Kgosi with Traditional Formal Attire)

He got up resplendent in his freshly killed leopard skin, (he killed it himself, apparently making his coronation especially special). His speech was well received and at one point he said “HIV/AIDS” the only thing in his speech I understood. Clearly, this guy was well liked and well received. Near the end of his speech everyone stood up and held there giant feathers in the air, now I really couldn’t see but it was an impressive site, I must admit.

(My best attempt at catching some kind of Salute.)

When his speech ended I found some other international students who had come separately. We walked around, now there were less people in front of the giant TV so we watched a huge dance (about 100 dancers) dancer some traditional dances and then it was time for lunch. It was clear that there was not enough food and even if there was it was going to take quite some time to be served. The other international and my self decided that we had seen enough and boarded the bus back to Gaborone.
Overall, I though it was a really cool event. It was a shame that I couldn’t see or understand much but I am glad I went and experienced a rare event.
Love to all,
Tommy

My Broken Lappy

Let me apologize in this post for the lack of posts of late. At the risk of sounding like I am making excuses let me explain why.
A while back, shortly after arriving in Botswana I noticed that my laptop’s power cable had begun to fray near the end and would occasionally lose connection, over the next few days the cord ot worse and eventually stopped working. I found that if I bent it at a certain angle I could get it to work as long as I didn’t shift the computer around too much. I decided that it wouldn’t last forever and I should buy a new cord so that when my current one finally died I would have a replacement on the way.
Well about two weeks ago the cable finally died, snapping completely apart at the part where it had frayed.

(Yes ALL of those parts should be attached)

Needless to say I was distraught. I decided to go out and search for a new one. But, as I am in Botswana there isn’t exactly a Mac store on every corner. I found out that there is place called the “Apple Center” and was quick to scurry over there. Much to my dismay they also didn’t have the part, they said they could order it but they didn’t know how long it might take to arrive. YUCK! So I decided that the one I had ordered (3 weeks before) would arrive soon anyways. In the meantime I was able to, temporarily, use another computer that lasted only a few days. Soon I tired of waiting and decided to return to ebay and bite the bullet in a big way. I found a replacement part that would repair my cable until the new one finally arrives. I took the leap and bought it and ponied up for the expensive international rush shipping that was supposed to take 3-5 days ($30 on top of the $15 part). So here we are, on the 8th business day, and I am still without a power cable. I did learn today however that I have had a package waiting for me in the post office since Monday. I hope it is the repair kit.
In the meantime Onkabetse has been very kind. He too has a Mac and we devised a situation where we have been trading batteries for the last week or so. He gives me his full battery and while I am depleting it he charges the empty one I give him. The next time I need to use the computer we trade back and so on and so forth. The system is not perfect and I eagerly await a time when I won’t have to bother him so much anymore but in the meantime he is being a real great guy about the whole thing.
So that’s my story,
Love to All,
Tommy

Dylan Leaving and The First Day of the Rest of My Study Abroad

"Dylan Leaving"
So Dylan left for the U.S. yesterday (9.5.08) "never to be seen again in Botswana." Why did he leave approximately five months before the program was scheduled to end you may ask? Well, the following is his tale.

(Left to Right: Back Row: Dylan, Puso, Matt, K.T., Front Row: Onkabetse, Me)

Prior to coming to Botswana Dylan had some real demons including battles with addiction that saw him kicked out of his first school and transplanted to K. He tried in his first year at K (his Junior year) to take part in the study abroad program but his record kept him from participating. He tried again in his senior year and was accepted. He arrived in Botswana determined to straighten out his life but he had started drinking again shortly before coming. In Botswana he drank a lot but never got even a little drunk. We went out a few times and he always seemed fine then, perhaps a little pushy and he naturally has a confrontational (bordering on violent) personality but other than those he seemed normal. Eventually it became clear to me that often times (nearly every day) after I went to sleep Dylan would go out either with some Batswana he had met or by himself to either a club or the local casino.
While there is seemingly nothing wrong with this I have a saying that "nothing good ever happened after midnight."

(Dylan and Onky just being goofy)

He would occasionally come back and tell me stories of his escapades either some jerk he had met or some girl he had picked up. Occasionally his stories were very strange and he often said he would stop spending time with certain people and would constantly say "I am just a magnet for these crazy situations." I mentioned a few times that maybe if he stopped going to those places the crazy situations would stop but he didn't take my advice and the crazy stories continued.
At one point Dylan went to a house party and passed out. When he woke up his wallet was gone and so was his ride. He got up and walked a long ways back to campus (possibly several miles according to him) with no water or money. He spent a few days looking for the guy who stole his wallet but finally reported its disappearances to the police. After a couple days of waiting they called him to come to the police station. He went and they had found his wallet. When he got there some plain clothes officers (who the other police did not recognize) brought in a plastic bag with his wallet and some crack pipes in it. They asked him several times if the pipes belonged to him and he said no (the truth). Apparently they had picked up the guy trying to use his credit card, the thief was friends with the officers and as such no charges were ever filed. We presume that's who the pipes belonged to. After a little bit of interrogation they took the wallet and pipes away and Dylan left without collecting his wallet.

(Some of My roommates, Dylan and Onkabetse in front of my Dorm)

The next day some men called Dylan and asked him to meet them at the Stadium (not far from School). He did and they handed him the wallet and again asked them if the crack pipes were his, he again said no and they gave him the wallet. He shared a few choice words and turned to leave. At that time the guys slapped some hand-cuffs on him and tried to shove him into their car. Apparently disrespecting a police officer is a criminal offense here but these were plain clothes police who had not identified themselves in an unmarked car. Fearing that the men were trying to kidnap him he wrestled himself away and began to run (still in the 'cuffs). He got to security only a few seconds before the police and he began to explain the situation to them. The security were conspicuously on the side of the police and no one was of very much help and most of the time they refused even to speak in English. Finally one of the men presented a card that identified himself but still was quite shady, after some threats the police uncuffed Dylan and left.
At this point Dylan was very shaken and began considering leaving. To be honest I thought it would be best if he left, not just for me but for him because he needed to stay out of trouble and I didn't have a lot of faith in him doing that. One of out Motswana friends convinced him that he had NOTHING to worry about so he calmed down and decided to leave.
Several days later the security showed up at Dylan's room unannounced and demanded to search his room for no clear reason. He refused and closed the door. Dylan later learned that after that security had interviewed his roommates to try to learn anything they could about him but the truth was Dylan spent next to no time in his room, he was always in my room. After that the security would follow us around every time we walked around and constantly spied on us.
Finally, Dylan decided that he simply didn't feel safe here. Honestly I felt that he was making the right decision for himself and especially for me. His absence will force me to push myself out of my box and it will make me more comfortable in my own skin, I think. He contacted the CIP and got his reservation changed and returned at 6:50 PM on Friday. He wasn’t happy about it, in fact he was quite upset but it is for the best.
I will honestly miss him but as Ross and I discussed we know he wasn't ready for this and he needs to sort a few things out before undertaking such a big challenge in the future.
"The First Day of the Rest of My Study Abroad"
He left UB at 4:30 and at 4:50 I had been invited to go to the Gaborone Dam/Yacht Club with a bunch of the international students.

(Sunset at the Dam)

This was just the sort of thing that I wouldn't have done if Dylan was here because he would have said he didn't want to. We went by Taxi and this time I had fully charged batteries. I talked with international students who I had never really had the chance to talk with and some who have become good friends. After the Dam we went to Dinner. This is exactly what I love to do! Just hanging out with a group of cool people who all have something to say and don't mind sharing. It was a great night after a sentimental day.

(Me at the Dam)

That is my update for today,
Love to All,
Tommy