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