One Hundred

This is post number 100 since I started this blog, nearly one year ago.  At this time last year, I had just returned home from my pre-orientation session in Montreal, where I stumbled upon Rue Sansregret, a dark mysterious alley with no clear end in sight.

I started the blog even before I formally accepted the volunteer opportunity.  I still had a lot of arrangements and consequences to consider.  I think, in some ways, the act of setting up the blog and stating my intentions to the world gave me the final push I needed.

In fact, the intention for this sabbatical was set in motion about 5 years earlier.  I was travelling through Kenya and Tanzania with my dear friend, Roxanne, and we both mused about returning to Africa to volunteer in public health or community development.  Roxanne asked when I might do so, and I said, "Maybe in five years, if I can arrange for a one year leave of absence from work."  I didn't think much about it, or do anything consciously to make it happen, until I happened upon a serenidipitous opportunity through WUSC / Uniterra.  And then I arrived here in Botswana, almost 5 years to the day of my prophetic pronouncement.  Roxanne's life path took a different but equally exciting course, and she has been a source of encouragement and support throughout my journey down this road.

In this past year, I have found 100 things to share with you, my friends and family.  100 events, experiences, musings, and observations that I found interesting enough to want to share. 

I wonder...at this time next year, once I have returned to Edmonton and settled into my regular routine, will I have found another 100 things of interest to share ?  I may have to look a bit harder or longer or differently at the familiar, but I think I am up to the challenge !

"It's a hard life"

Those were the last words I heard from Violet her last day working at our house.  She had been having some issues with her boss, our landlord, and it was time for her to move on.  When she said it, she had tears in her eyes.

Violet had become a dear friend to me.  She had a soft spot for Canadians, having worked for one before.  She was the last person I saw each morning when I left the house for work, and the first to greet me when I came home in the evening with a “Hello Sweetheart” and a warm smile.  

Although my housemate and I miss her, we are relieved that she is now in a better, less stressful environment.  She had been having issues with her boss for some time, and we tried to walk the fine line between being supportive and interfering. 

Domestic workers have little recourse when they experience conflicts with their bosses.  For those who are working legally, Botswana has labour laws that are intended to govern their working relationships.  Unfortunately, these laws offer less protection than for other working populations. Domestic workers have little clout in negotiating wages and working hours, and are not even entitled to the full suite of public holidays. As of yet, there is no union to hear or mediate their grievances, and legal aid is still a relatively new concept here. Those working illegally (there is an underground economy of workers from neighbouring countries) are even more vulnerable.

A Botswana based human rights organization, Ditshwanelo, has done some work in the past to articulate the issues impacting domestic workers and to encourage the development of a union.  They acknowledge that both domestic workers and their employers are poorly informed about their respective rights and responsibilities.

The issue of disclosure about HIV status is one that comes up again and again.  Some employers believe it is their legal right to know the HIV status of their employees, particularly those working in their homes.  It isn’t.  However, there is still a lot of stigma attached to HIV.  Workers who are afraid to disclose their positive status have to find creative ways to keep their medical appointments, take their medication, and tend to their health care needs. 

I think if I had more time and authority in this country, I would work on supporting Ditshwanelo to strengthen and advocate for the rights of domestic workers, particularly those whose health is compromised. 

While I can’t single-handedly make systemic changes, the very least I  can do is try to make at least one domestic worker’s life a little less hard.

I managed to find Violet and travelled to her village to visit her.  She greeted me at the road side with her warm smile, wearing her Sunday best.  She took me by the hand and walked me to her church, which was in mid-service.   She sang loudly and proudly to the beat of a cowhide drum as a little boy, cloaked in a red and white robe, led the small congregation in dance.   We then walked a few steps to the house she shares.   I gave her a necklace I brought from Canada.  She put it on and said she will wear it until the day she dies.  I also gave her a bonus I had originally been saving for her for Christmas.  She sighed with relief, and sent the little boy to buy milk and sugar so we could enjoy a cup of tea together. 

Attack of the Flying Termites

We had our first big rainfall over the weekend.  Not the kind that pours for an hour or two at night, only to evaporate the next day, but the kind that is sustained for hours on end.  I sat outside under the patio roof Saturday morning, enjoying the refreshing relief from the heat.

On Sunday morning, I went on a hike with the Kalahari Hash House Harriers, dodging puddles and side-stepping masses of white termites teeming on the dirt paths.  We also came across the thickest and longest black millipedes, like licorice sticks with legs, and the reddest ants I had ever seen.  It seems the rain brought many interesting creatures to surface.

Later that evening, I met a friend for dinner at an outdoor cafe.  As the sun set and the patio lights came on, we found ourselves in the midst of a flying termite storm.  They were everywhere.  In our hair.  In our salad.  Everywhere.  It was like a scene from a science fiction movie. We tried to move indoors, but they had also invaded the inside through the open patio door.  At first, I thought they were moths, but their wings were too long and thin. 

I did some research, and found out that sexually mature termites are prone to grow wings and swarm as part of a mating ritual after the first heavy rain of the season.  Once they have mated, they lose their wings and start new colonies at their new location.  We had found ourselves in the midst of a flying termite orgy !

This morning, the ground was littered with thousands upon thousands of translucent termite wings.

Charting a Friendship

I am fortunate to have one of those rare friendships that transcends the years and miles.  Here is the story of my friendship with Alice.

Hermanus (near Cape Town), Nov. 19, 2012

1991: Czech and Slovak Federal Rebublic

I am living Pribram, a mining town about 60 km south of Prague.  I work for a mining company, teaching English to the directors and engineers.  The company puts me up in a dormitory that lies vacant over the winter holidays.  Nobody supposes anyone will be living there, so there is no heat.  I catch pneumonia.  The company doctor takes pity on me, and brings me home to live with his family while I recuperate.  His daughter, Alice, is home for the holidays and becomes my interpreter and friend. I remain friends with Alice and her family long after my recovery.  They become my surrogate family, and include me in their family celebrations and outings.  Alice welcomes me into her social circle in Prague, where I am inducted into the weekend dorm life of Czech engineering students.

1992/ 1993:  Czech and Slovak Federal Republic / Czech Republic

I have finished another teaching job in the Spanish Pyrenees, and travel to Pribram to spend Christmas with Alice and her family. We eat carp and open presents on Christmas Eve. On New Year's Eve, Alice and I join throngs of revelers at Wenceslas Square in Prague witnessing the creation of a new country. I stay until Easter.

1994:  Canada /USA

I meet Alice in Montreal and we rent a car for a road trip through Quebec and New Brunswick to Nova Scotia, where we meet my family for my paternal grandmother’s memorial service.  We then travel through Prince Edward Island and Maine en route to Boston, for Alice’s first experience with an American city.  We drive up through New Hampshire back to Montreal.  After a visit to Ottawa and Toronto, Alice returns with me to Edmonton for weekend visits to the Rocky Mountains and a jaunt to the West Coast with my parents.  Alice calls this her “all and nothing” tour of North America.  She saw it all, but in such a whirlwind, that she retained nothing.

1995:  Czech Republic

My parents travel to Europe with a friend, to celebrate my father’s retirement.  They put Prague and Pribram on their itinerary so they can visit with Alice and meet the kind doctor and his wife who were so good to me.  One night, Alice takes my dad to a pub frequented by engineers.  Alice translates a conversation between my father and a handsome young man, who is sitting at the same table.  She doesn’t translate everything he tells her.  He asks her out.

1995:  Thailand / Malaysia / Singapore

When we last met, Alice I agreed that our next visit would be somewhere neither of us had been before, about equi-distance from the both of us.  We looked at a globe and chose Thailand.  After a series of mishaps involving a hurricane and flight delays, we meet in Bangkok.  Along with a couple of Alice’s friends, we back-pack through Thailand, Malaysia, and Singapore for 4 weeks.  Alice is missing the young engineer she has been dating since my parents’ visit.  Standa meets Alice when she returns home with a single red rose.

1997: Canada

Alice brings Standa to visit us in Edmonton.  We go to an Oilers hockey game for my birthday and go for a ski holiday at Lake Louise.

1998: Czech Republic

I travel to Pribram for Alice and Standa’s wedding.  Alice’s parents walk her down the aisle as the hall organist plays “Hey Jude”.  They invite me along on their honeymoon at their family cottage.

1999: Czech Republic

On March 31 (my birthday), my mom answers a mysterious phone call from a woman announcing that baby Anna has arrived.  The next day, April 1, Standa calls to let us know that Alice has given birth.  He is spooked when my mom tells him, "Yes, we already know.  How is baby Anna ?".  She had just been born, and they had not yet named her.

2000: Canada

Alice and Standa bring baby Anna to meet her surrogate Canadian family.

2001:  Turkey

I have just toured Turkey with two friends.  Alice brings her father and two-year old Anna to visit us in Istanbul.  Alice is protective of Anna, who attracts a lot of attention due to her blond hair and blue eyes.  Blue eyes are considered lucky in Turkey.

2002: Czech Republic

Baby Ludmila (Lida) is born.

2003: Czech Republic

I travel to Prague with two friends, one of whom is running in a marathon.  We learn that Alice is recovering from a miscarriage.  I mind little Lida while Alice gets medical attention.  She is well enough to help cheer on my friend in the Prague marathon.

2007: Canada

Alice, Standa, and both girls come to visit us in Edmonton.  They also pay a visit to my brother and his family in Paris, Ontario.  Their girls and my nieces are age mates.  We are planting the seeds for another generation of international friendship.

2008: USA

Alice and I meet in New York City for a girls’ getaway.  We stay at a hotel overlooking Ground Zero.  I book a room for us on the 34^th floor, not knowing that Alice has a fear of heights.  We keep the curtains closed. We have a great time seeing the sights, picnicking in Central Park, getting mani / pedis, and shopping.

2009: USA

We meet again in New York City.  This time, I bring two friends and Alice brings Standa and the girls.  We watch the Easter Parade on 5th Avenue.

2011:  Canada

Our plans for a 20-year reunion this year are put on hold.  My mother has passed away.  I am touched to see a bouquet of yellow roses from Alice and her family at the funeral chapel.

2012:  South Africa

I visit with Alice and Standa in Cape Town.  I am greeted upon arrival at the guest house with a sumptuous champagne brunch they have prepared .  We visit the waterfront, listen to live music, enjoy some fine wine, and take a day trip to Hermanus to watch the southern right whales nursing their babies offshore.  We discuss plans for a summer 2013 visit in Prague.

Remembrance Day

Today is Remembrance Day. It is a significant day for my family, as my maternal grandfather, Lt-Colonel J.N. Edgar, was a veteran of World War I and World War II, where he served with Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. 

My most treasured family photo is of my mother as a young girl, standing beside her father and mother, her little brother in his daddy's arms, in front of the Empress Hotel in Victoria, British Columbia. Granddad was wearing a pith helmet and holding the telegram with his World War II departure orders in one hand.  They were bidding him farewell, not knowing if they would ever see him again.  My mother, grandmother, and grandfather were bravely smiling for the camera. If you cover their smiles, their eyes reveal their true feelings. Four year-old Uncle David was unable to muster a smile.

 
I was 3 years-old when my grandfather passed away, and my vague memories of him are triggered by family movies and the pride in my mother's face and voice whenever she spoke of him.  My brother recently shared this memory of a conversation with him:

"He died when I was 5, but not before I asked him if he would be fighting in the 3rd world war. He laughed, and then told me that if there is ever a 3rd world war we wouldn't be needing soldiers. It took me a while to figure out what he meant. I guess that is why we have Remembrance Day."

My brother has been researching our family's history, and came across this record of his receipt of the Military Cross for his deeds at the battle of Cambrai in 1918.  A young captain at the time, he was recognized for his courage and leadership when he stepped up to lead his troop to safety after the commanding officer had fallen.

Granddad's medals are housed at the Museum of the Regiments, in Calgary, Alberta.  I stop by to see them whenever I am in Calgary.  If you happen to be in the area, pay a visit to honour our veterans and learn a bit about how our history has shaped our present.

Random Ramblings: Part III

Dogs

My house is surrounded by neighbours who are more security conscious than us, judging by the number of guard dogs they have. They seem to vary between 2 and 4 per house. We have none. I don't think we need any. If ever we are visited by an intruder, I am sure the neighbours' dogs will unite in a chorus of barks and howls to advise us, and everyone else, of their presence.  They are well practiced and serenade us at all hours of the night.  Of course, no one ever checks to see what all the fuss is about.  The dogs are doing their jobs.  But are their owners ?

The High Five

There is a high school kid I pass each day on my way home. He greets me with a broad smile and his hand in the air, which I meet to complete the high five. He then bursts into a hearty laugh - each time.  If that's all it takes to make someone happy, I'll slap a hand, anytime.  I think I will miss him, once school lets out for the year.

Exclusivity

When I was in Jo'burg recently, I went on a little shopping spree.  I have already written about shoe shopping, but I didn't mention my foray into the land of lotions and potions, aka, The Body Shop. I hadn't seen a Body Shop since I left Canada, and there really isn't an equivalent in Botswana. I sniffed and sampled new and familiar scents, and left with an impressive collection: peach body scrub and body butter; a pair of exfoliating mitts; tropical scented travel shampoo; vitamin E face cream and lip balm, both with an SPF factor; and tea tree oil exfoliating face mask.  I would be set for the hot and dry months to come.

Last week, I noticed they had opened the first Body Shop in Botswana, in Riverwalk Mall.  You would think I would be excited, right ? Convenient access to my favourite products ? Instead, I felt a mild sense of disappointment.  My Jo'burg purchases no longer seemed so... exclusive.