The Currency of Communications

I was thinking the other day how much the means for staying in touch with loved ones have changed since my first overseas voyages.

Stamps

1988/89: My first time in Africa. I was volunteering in Rwanda with Canada World Youth. I was part of a group of 7 Canadians and 7 Rwandans. We lived together in a compound that had been built for Chinese workers who had come to Rwanda to establish a rice plantation. Rice never really caught on as a cash commodity, but that's another story. As volunteers, we were given a basic monthly stipend, enough to treat ourselves to a goat brochette, fries, and a bottle of fanta at the local canteen, but not much more. We were also given a bar of soap, toilet paper, and stamps. Stamps were a valuable commodity to us Canadians. The only communication we had to and from loved ones at home was through letters, that took weeks to months to cross the miles. When we couldn't find note paper, we used the wrapping from the toilet paper roles, or leaves, to write letters on. Care packages from home were a big treat. I remember Rachel D. was especially generous when it came to sharing her loot, which always include fun sweets of some sort. The Rwandans didn't get stamps. That was a big issue for them. They had a meeting one night, then presented an argument that they should be given something of equal value. They got extra soap.

Telephone

1991: The former Czech and Slovak Federal Rebublic. I arrived in January. It was cold. I was sent to a Bohemian mining town to teach English to the engineers and directors of a mining company. I was given accommodations in a dormitory for 14 year-old boys who were learning to be miners. They were all away for school holidays. There was no heat in the building (no one presumed anyone would be living there). I caught pneumonia. The company doctor took me home to live with his family until I recovered. In my feverish delirium, I stumbled for the Czech phrases for "I have a cold" and "I need to find a telephone". I wanted to let my family know where I was and that I was okay (sort of). When I was well enough to leave the house, I was taken to use a public phone in the post office.

A Cell Phone, Air Time, a Laptop, and a Wireless Connection

2012: Gaborone, Botswana. My first day here, I was taken to buy a cell phone. I also got the code for my new house's wireless connection. I have nearly daily skype calls with friends and family, I discovered I can exchange text messages with my brother in Ontario for next to nothing, and the other day, I dedicated a song via a web radio show to my 14 year-old niece, while we were chatting on Facebook.

Her reaction:
'OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGWOOOAAAHHHH',
is 14 year-old speak for 'Cool', and pretty well sums up my sentiments about how the technology of today lets loved ones stay in touch across the miles.

How times have changed.

Cake

I baked a cake.

Melissa, one of the WUSC/Uniterra field staff, and a valued support to me here, gave me the starter batter for a Herman Friendship Cake. If you have heard of that before, then you will know that it is yeast-based, and has to be fed every few days until it is ready for you to bake. I fed it sugar, milk, and flour at day 5, and once again, at day 10. I then took 3 cups from the mixture -- 2 to pass and 1 to keep -- and added my own special ingredients to the remaining mixture. The recipe called for bananas and coconut. I didn't have bananas and coconut, so I substituted pineapple and chopped nuts.

I shared the cake with my housemates and work colleagues -- it would have been a waste to have kept it all to myself. I then passed on the 2 portions of batter to Rebeccah and Bonolo from my office.

Friendship cake is a bit like knowledge and skills transfer. You are given the raw ingredients (information or a skill). You add to it, and nurture it, over time. If you don't, it becomes stagnant and dies. Then, you add your own flavorings (i.e., incorporate your own perspective and experiences), based on your resources at hand. You produce something that can be shared with others. Not only can you share the finished product, but you can also pass on the starter batter and recipe (i.e., techniques and tools) for others to adapt for their own purposes, and pass on, in turn.

One thing I like about WUSC/Uniterra's approach to capacity building is that there is an expectation that any training provided to us or our partner organizations is applied and shared. Not hoarded. Not set aside on the shelf. But shared with and passed on to others. Like Friendship Cake.

I know that may be a simplistic way to explain knowledge transfer and capacity building, but that's what I was thinking about, as I baked a cake.

TB or not TB

Today is World TB Day. This morning, I attended an orientation session organized by BOCAIP for front line HIV testers and counselors. Like HIV, TB is a major health issue in Botswana. Since 1989, Botswana has experienced a 3-fold increase in TB incidence and now has one of the highest rates of TB in the world. The increase has largely been attributed to the country`s HIV epidemic. It is estimated that 60-84% of TB patients in Botswana are currently HIV infected. Part of the role of the HIV testers and counselors is to screen for TB, help clients understand the relationship between TB and HIV, and recommend appropriate follow-up treatment and support.

Sharing Space: Part II

"That's (human) nature. Sometimes it reaches out to you".

I am trying to adapt Ian's advice on living with little critters to my recent experience, being pick-pocketed for the first time ever, anywhere.

Someone reached out and helped themselves to my little change purse I used to store my taxi/combi pulas and thebes. I kept it in a place that was accessible to me, and to others, too, apparently. This happened yesterday, I suspect, while walking on the overpass from the station to Rail Park Mall. I felt someone bump into me, in what was a quick and fleeting moment. It's a small loss in terms of monetary value, but serves as a not so subtle reminder that I need to keep my guard up, and that no matter how long I am here, I will always be visible as a visitor, a beacon of privilege. I am sharing space here, with many wonderful people, but also with those (likely, those facing desperate situations) who may see me as a target.

And, I will miss my little change purse, a souvenir from Buenos Aires, with separate pockets for my going to work and coming home pulas. I am back to resorting to my travel stand-by change purse -- a ziploc baggie -- that I will keep in a less so convenient, and accessible, place.

Sharing Space

"That's nature. Sometimes it reaches out to you."

That was Ian's nonchalant response when we told him we spotted a mouse in the yard.

Coming from a city cloaked in winter most of the year, I am not accustomed to sharing space with little critters. It's too cold for most to survive our climate (with the exception of the dreaded pine beetle). And, as Albertans, we pride ourselves on being rat free. I've never known how, but we manage to turn them away at our provincial borders. There are coyotes and rabbits and other fauna that visit our river valley neighborhoods, but none that move in with us.

Now, not only do I have a resident chicken, and a gecko that sings to me at night, but I am also sharing space with a mouse.

I've come to think of these critters less as pests, and more so, as little living reminders that we share our space with others. Maybe we could use more little reminders at home ?

My journey home: Part I

I've been here one month now, and am starting to establish a bit of a routine. Eace day, I share a taxi with Pallavi and Eva to the Princess Marina Hospital, then I walk about 15 minutes down South Ring Road until I reach a residential area where my office is located. I get to work around 7:30am, then at 4:30pm, head home.

Roxanne asked to follow along on the journey home. So, come on, let's go !

I leave BOCAIP (Botswana Christian AIDS Intervention Program). The BOCAIP office is in a rented house in a little cul-du-sac, with additional office space in trailers, out back. Notice the red sand.

I walk down the road, then turn left, at the house with the zebra wall.

I then wait for a shared taxi at the bus stop (i.e., tree) behind the Methodist Church. Each taxi takes 4 passengers, so often I have to wait a while until there is one with space I can squeeze into. The taxi goes to the main bus/taxi/combi stop at the rail yard.

This is where city life really unfolds.

My journey home: Part II

From the bus/taxi/combi rank, I take an overpass across the tracks to Rail Park Mall.

I still haven't decided which side of the tracks I live on.

I'll often stop in the mall for a bit of groceries. I can go to Choppies, a local supermarket chain, or Food Lover's Market.

Food Lover's has a good selection of fresh produce, so I usually go there. They also have a decent cheese selection.

Then, from Rail Park Mall, I walk another 10 minutes or so through a semi-industrial area to New Lobatse Road. At rush hour, there is usually a yellow-gloved traffic officer who guides the flow of traffic.

I cross the street, and then turn left at the KFC and gas station/garage. When people ask where I live, I say, "Near the KFC at New Lobatse Road". My street address means nothing to them.

By the way, there are no Golden Arches in Botswana. McDonald's was not successful in getting a trading license. So, it's KFC that rules the fast food industry here.

My journey home: Part III

From the KFC and gas station/garage, I continue on for another 5 minutes or so.

If you don't like the services offered by the modern gas station/garage, you can get your new tires here, at the more traditional tire shop.

Car in need of a wash ?

After the "car wash" tree, I turn at Omaweneno Road - the street where I live. Say that 5 times fast !

It's another 2 minute walk to my house from here.

Thanks for accompanying me home ! Same time, tomorrow ?

An evening out

To celebrate Annouk's last day in Botswana, and my first month here, we went to a fundraising dinner and cd launch at The No. 1 Ladies' Opera House, a converted garage on the outskirts of town. The Opera House was established by Alexander McCall Smith, to promote new artists.

Ntirelang Berman sings folk songs about life in Botswana -- about love; tenacious buffalo; the girl who harvested pula from workmen, while her sisters harvested crops from the field; and about HIV stigmitization, i.e.; the goat who can't see his own horns (don't chastise those who have tested positive, if you haven't yet gone to be tested, yourself).

"Don't disregard a hunch": generally sound advice !

The Road to Khutsi

Leaving Gaborone

Passing by billboards advertising the latest cell phone plans

Dodging combis, cars, taxis, buses

Entering the countryside

Passing by billboards promoting the ABCs of HIV prevention

Abstain, Be Faithful, Condomize

Dodging donkeys, cows, goats, baboons

Passing by not so random bus stops

At not so random trees

Providing shade to the patient passengers and vigilant vendors

Selling their wares at make-shift stands

Air time, Snack time

Sweet nothings, Sweet somethings

Passing through towns

Purple painted beauty parlours sponsored by Dark & Lovely

Strip malls, gas stations, bars, clinics

Passing by housing compounds

Fenced with branches

To keep livestock in ?

To keep intruders out ?

Rectangular, modern concrete houses

Flank round, traditional adobe huts

No longer used

But kept out of respect for the ancestors buried beneath

Pavement gives way to dirt

Dirt gives way to sand

Cars give way to donkey carts

Towns give way to villages

The village housing compounds have only round thatch-roofed huts

It is too expensive to bring concrete here

Passing through the park gate

Set up camp

Drive to the watering hole

and Stop

No more driving

No more motion

No more passing through towns and villages

No more passing by billboards and bus stops

No more passing by life

No more life passing us by

just Stopping

Letting life unfold around us

Letting life unfold within us

We have arrived

Khutsi

For Susan and Nancy, who requested a poem

Everyday Setswana

I picked up a Setswana phrase book yesterday to help boost my vocabulary.  While glancing through it, I came across some useful - and not so useful - phrases.

Let's start with the not so useful ones:

• Go semanthane.  There is snow.  I doubt I will use this phrase during my time here.

• Saka.  Shark.  I won't likely need to shout this out as a warning, on the fringes of the Kalahari desert.

Some phrases that may come in handy, but I hope I will never have to use:

• Phepheng.  Scorpion.  We saw a cousin to the phepheng poking around our gear as we were packing up camp.  Next time, I think I will wear closed-toe shoes when I go camping.

• Noga.  Snake.

• Mokwepa.   Mamba.  I hope I don't have any close encounters with a noga, and especially not a mokwepa.

• Seteisene sa mapodisa.  Police station.

• Motseneledi.  Intruder.  Let's hope I never have to go to the seteisene sa mapodisa to report a motseneledi.  

• The dithibelbogodu (burglar bars) on my windows should deter a potential motseneledi.  I have to admit, it has taken some adjusting to get used to living behind walls, wires, and bars.  I haven't felt threatened in any way, but I guess these precautions are here for a reason.

• I also hope I will never have to go to the seteisene sa mapodisa to report a kotsi ya tsela  (road accident).  Although many expats buy used cars for the excellent resale value, I am not yet ready to venture out on city streets, especially during pharakano e e pitaganeng  (rush hour).  I think I would get frustrated with the kgotlhagano ya pharakano (traffic jams). 

• So far, I have been pretty healthy.  If that changes, then I may need to consult a ngaka (doctor) or, perhaps, even a ngaka ya Setswana (traditional healer).  Fortunately, I was introduced to a very nice ngaka as part of my orientation.

 Some phrases I hope to use very soon:

• Ke rata mnino.  I like music.  I am planning to go to a pontsho e e tselang  (live show) this weekend.

• I would also like to try go thala metsing  (sailing).  Believe it or not, there is a yacht club at the Gaborone Dam. 

Some phrases you may not need to learn in other places:

• Khutsana.  An orphan.

• Dikhutsaneng.  Orphanage.   An 'orphan' is defined by the United Nations as a child who has lost one or both parents. Worldwide, it is estimated that more than 16 million children under 18 have been orphaned by AIDS. Around 14.8 million of these children live in sub-Saharan Africa. In some countries, which are badly affected by the epidemic, a large percentage of all children (for example 16% of children in Zimbabwe and 12% in Botswana and Swaziland), are orphaned due to AIDS.  --  You didn't think I would post another item without including something about my work or Etsi (AIDS), did you ?  BOCAIP offers programs to provide care and support for Orphans and Vulnerable Children, and I will post more about what they do through these programs at another time.

Go sieme ! (Good-bye !)

Tim's Story

Under the orange glow of the full moon, while sipping tea by the campfire, I asked our safari guide, Tim, about his story.  Tim is in his 40’s and is originally from Zimbabwe.   He can trace his family’s roots in Zimbabwe/Rhodesia back about 8 generations.  In the late 1960’s, Tim’s father decided he wanted to become a minister.  He wasn’t able to enter a seminary in the newly independent Rhodesia (I didn’t ask why), so he moved his family to South Africa.  They settled in Cape Town, where Tim’s father studied, and then ministered to the black and colored families in District Six.  If you have heard of District Six, you may know that in the late 1960’s, the South African government  declared the district a whites-only area under an Apartheid policy, with removals starting in 1968.  Some ‘removals’ happened under the cloak of darkness, by bulldozers, as families slept.  You can well imagine that Tim’s father was not too popular with the Apartheid government.  Tim recalls being followed to school  by the secret police, and his family receiving a letter bomb in the mail (that fortunately, did  not detonate).  One day, they were presented with a notice that they had 48 hours to leave the country, or his father would face imprisonment.  Since Tim’s family had been away from Rhodesia for more than 2 years, they had lost their citizenship and could not return.  So, they packed up their car, drove to Botswana, and settled here, in an environment more supportive of racial integration.

WUSC / Uniterra's work in in the HIV and AIDS sector in Botswana

Animals of the Kalahari

Ostrich love !

The Oryx (Gemsbok) is particularly well adapted to the harsh, arid environment of the Kalahari desert. Can anyone tell me how ?

Springbok.

Camping in Khutsi

I went camping last night at Khutsi Game Reserve, bordering the Central Kalahari Game Reserve. We crossed the Tropic of Capricorn.

We were the only ones at this camp site. We ate dinner at the campfire, then retired to our tents as the red moon was rising, to the lullaby of the little critters around us.

My camp mates, Emily, from my Maatla US partner org (FHI360)'s Washington D.C. office, and Tim, our guide. We stopped at a water hole to watch and listen to life unfold around us. Sometimes it's a good idea to stop chasing life long enough for it to find you.

Sunrise over the Kalahari.

Snip ! Snip !

Do you know the public health benefits of male circumcision ? Circumcision can reduce the risk of female to male transmission of HIV by up to 60%. About 11% of males between 10-64 have been circumcised in Botswana. A national public health campaign, supported by BOCAIP and other organizations, is geared to encouraging HIV testing and circumcision amongst the adult male population. BOCAIP is setting up clinics at some of its testing and counseling sites so this can be done in a safe, medical environment, and with appropriate counseling to encourage safe sex and relationship behaviors.

I am young enough to be your daughter...

Youth in the village of Thamaga.

What does the girl's t-shirt say ?

"I am young enough to be your daughter; stay away from me !"

This t-shirt was developed by the Botswana Christian AIDS Intervention Programme (BOCAIP), the organization at which I am placed.
BOCAIP saw a need to address the issue of HIV transmission through inter-generational sex, in recognition that the highest rates of new infection occur in young women, between the ages of 25-30, at 8.73%, and men, between the ages of 45-49, at 8.13%.

*  See "comments" for an explanation.

Why I am here -- The Maatla Project

I thought I should start writing a little bit about why I am actually here, and what I am doing for work -- lest you all start thinking I am only here for the safaris - ha!

Through my placement with WUSC/Uniterra, I am contributing to a Botswana/Canada/USA umbrella initiative called the Maatla Project. Maatla is the Setswana word for strength, and the goal of the project is to support civil society's response to the HIV and AIDS epidemic in Botswana through strengthening the organizational development capacity of 4 core national HIV and AIDS networks to provide prevention, care, and support services at the grassroots level through their member organizations and/or sites. I have been placed, or embedded, in one of the 4 partner networks as an organizational development capacity advisor.

I am so excited about the many layers and textures to this assignment, and hope to describe them all in due time (once I find a succinct way to do so) ! In the meantime, I will prepare a couple of short posts to give you an idea of the scope of the HIV and AIDS epidemic in Botswana, and what is being done to address it, particularly by the network with which I will be working for the next year.

Stay tuned !

If you have to play dead, cover your ears

I told someone at a meeting recently that I am going camping in Khutsi this weekend. Khutsi is a game reserve at the edge of the Kalahari desert and is known for its predator population. The gentleman I was speaking with gave me a quick lesson in lion and buffalo safely. Lion safety sounds very much like bear safely; no use trying to outrun a lion. A lion will even follow you up a tree, but has a harder time getting down from one. If you jump down from the tree, you might gain some time, but the lion will likely have a partner waiting for you at the bottom. Your best bet in a showdown with a lion is to appear as large and menacing as possible. Buffalo are another story. They are very smart, and have been known to walk backwards in their own tracks to ambush you from the side. The buffalo is not easily fooled; if you play dead, it will pee in your ear to see if you really are or not. So, if you have to play dead, be sure to cover your ears !

See "Predator Weekend" tour description at http://africainsight.com (go to Favourite Links section).

Shopping in Gaborone

Main Mall - Gaborone.

Mophane Worm Lady.

Fur sandels, anyone ?

Baskets.

This one is for Cynthia: I thought you would get a 'kick' out of this (see Stepping Off The Edge blog post, Shopping in Adelaide)