Expat life in Africa

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I have been quiet for a while – mainly because this woman from Africa got to leave the African continent for nearly two weeks.  Did I miss Africa?  The short answer is…. NO!  (I can already feel the stones coming my way…) Now, don’t get me wrong, I am an African, I was born and bred here, this is home to me and yes, I love Africa.  Is this a case of “too much of a good thing”?  I don’t know.  I actually touched on this topic again with someone last night.   I am a South African who was born and raised in Namibia.  When I did the expat thing for the first time about 16 and a half years ago, I had many questions.  The one that I kept on asking people was, “What brings you to Africa – what makes a person from Europe decide to come to Africa and stay here?”.  Why would anyone leave a life in Europe to come and live in the middle of Africa, deprived of most luxuries, all the while you are threatened by all kinds of deceases like malaria, typhoid or cholera every day?  I have had various expat experiences ranging from life in the bushes very far away from any civilization to living in small countryside towns to living in a capitol city. If I had to choose again, I guess the bushes would be my choice. Why? The very reason every other person that I asked so many years ago, gave me: life there is so uncomplicated!! You learn to live with what you have or can find. You make a plan for the rest. I was always stunned by the way the local people would improvise. I often wished I could give many a citizen from my home country a peak at how people are content at making things work with what is around them. No strikes, no demands, no payment…. just life being lived.

Expat life inevitably means that you share your every day surroundings with people from many a country in the world!! People who might not (and DO NOT) see things the way you do, who do not have the same values as you do, people who do not share your heritage or even your language or dress code or religion. It teaches one tolerance towards other nationalities and create a great platform to teach children that people differ and that one needs to be tolerant and respectful towards the culture of others. What makes this “mix” more interesting is the fact that you all live in a country that belongs to the majority who’s country you all find yourselves in. No matter what your own culture is, you all have one thing in common: you all have to adapt to the country you find yourselves in. This all said, I have also learnt that people, although in the same situation, interpret their situation differently, depending on their backgrounds. I was witness to this again this week, when a French gentleman was a passenger on a motorcycle (used as a taxi) and the driver put their lives at risk by cutting in front of myself and other cars and everyone had to slam on brakes – all but the motorcycle driver with his passenger! 500 Meters further the passenger got some water splashed over his clothes when the motorcycle driver decided to overtake me on the left and assumed that I would stop so that he can rush on through the water, thus assuming that I will be the considerate one because he is not. (This we already gathered when he cut in in front of all the cars!). I did not really realize what had happened until such time that they stopped next to me in front of my house!! I was immediately bombarded with accusations of being inconsiderate and taking advantage of the local people who are poor. I stopped the passenger halfway through his ramblings, and reminded him that this driver had tried to kill him minutes earlier. He replied that he knows, but the people are poor and I should consider that in whatever I do. I asked him if he recons that it was my responsibility to stop so that he does not get wet, just so that the driver did not need to stop while coming from behind me. He once again told me that the people are poor and that is why I should do the responsible things I would normally expect from them. Now, being from Africa, I clearly see things a bit differently… If you are clever enough to get a license to drive a motorcycle and still carry passengers, you ought to be clever enough to follow the rules of the road as well as be considerate to all other users of the road as well as your own passengers. You are clever enough to know that you do not own the road and you have to respect others on the road too. Needless to say, there was no use in engaging in a huge argument with the Frenchman and my laughter made him give up after a while and he instructed the driver to take him to his destination. His journey unfortunately ended very soon after that when the driver nearly crushed his passenger’s leg between his motorcycle and my car while reversing! Before I realized what had happened, the Frenchman was already halfway down the road by foot, while the driver was trying to recover from everything that had happened in the preceding 10 minutes! I was wondering if the Frenchman still felt the same….

The very next day, we were entertained by another expat view. We entered a restaurant to have lunch, and while seating ourselves at the only free table in the small Indian eatery (our favourite in town), we had no choice but to listen to the very loud and absolute non-stop patron at the table next to us. He was African, from the very country we found ourselves in, but had a heavy American accent. He was talking about a South African that visited him for work related purposes and then went on to say very nasty things about Afrikaans speaking South Africans – an opinion he seems to have gathered on visits to South Africa, with his biggest problem being Afrikaans speaking South Africans who continue to speak Afrikaans, while English is a language option in the country. In his opinion, they are “farmer type trash”!! This left me wondering since when it was wrong to speak your own language in your own country. Mr Know-it-all also seemed to think that he had all other nations covered – he knew absolutely everything, well, he thought so and probably still do!! He went about insulting my fellow countrymen at the top of his voice, all the while he treated the waiter from his own country with so little respect that I had the urge to shout out “pleases” and ” thank you’s” between all his rude demands to the waiter. After a lot of thinking, I realized that his little “show” had nothing to do with intolerance towards other nations or a lack of respect towards people from other nationalities. He even treated the one person around that was from his own nationality with so little respect. This was just who he was!! Yes, I did introduce myself on the way out… And yes, he did cringe from embarrassment!!!

As I am siting here in our apartment and typing this post, it is just after eleven in the evening. There are 3 people entering the apartment block with more noise than a primary school day ending. Would I do that? Of course not, not because I am an expat from South Africa or Namibia, but because respect for other people is an universal value, it is a choice, no matter which language we speak or from which country we are or what our skin colour may be or how much money we have in our pocket or in the bank!!

This is expat life…. You “recharge” every time you get to go to your home country, and you come back, ready to tolerate, respect, understand, compromise and accommodate and hope that people will do the same for you!! After all, we are all just expats in Africa!

It is the jam, Madam….

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So basically, when any good South African or Namibian or probably even a Zimbabwean hears the word “jam”, visions of bread and butter comes to mind with that.  Actually, your mind automatically starts to wander… would that be strawberry or apricot jam, or maybe fig jam, if you are lucky??!! Rightly so, it is a preserve that consists mostly of fruit and sugar and is a good compliment to bread. However, in Africa, staple food is mostly maize meal, and with that meat and sauce and other forms of fruit and vegetables. Bread does not feature high on the list of daily foods, mostly because it does not come directly from nature, I would guess and it is not as filling as maize meal or cassava or other starches are and of course there is the fact that it needs an oven, which is not available to all in Africa.

All this said, they do have their own jam here in Africa! I often have to hear: “It is the jam, Madam…” Nothing as nice and sweet as the jam I mentioned above. No, their jam is the cause of a lot of problems, is the excuse for many a thing not done, opportunity for many a criminal and reason for many accidents or bumper bashings. In fact, it is the reason why tomorrow may very well be another day and why it is okay to be late or just miss a meeting! In reality, it is the mother of all excuses!! It takes a bit of understanding for an outsider at first to understand how “the jam” can be the reason for all in-effiencies.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have full understanding of the implications the jam here can have, gained from ongoing first-hand experience. It is not a pleasant thing, something you would enjoy like the sensual sweet taste of a fine fruit jam or the overly sweet taste of whole fig preserve that is complimented by a delicate tasting cheese. I get to “enjoy” the jam very often, too often. But with some careful planning, I avoid it. In fact, it does not take a lot of planning sometimes even, just thinking a minute or 5 ahead, would probably go a long way. And mostly, I do not use it as an excuse for mostly anything and everything! You see this is what makes “the jam” here different to the jam on other continents… attitude! You know and you plan! Because, what people from around here do not seem to know is, that we have jam all around the world. Various kinds, but fact remains, the TRAFFIC jam is a common phenomenon everywhere in the world. Just understand that “the jam” here is different, it is the excuse of all excuses and makes many wrongs right, because it is “The jam, Madam…”

Africa, the “fake” continent

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The one thing in Africa that has always fascinated me, is the common use of the word “fake”.

I once again have to refer to my good friend Collins as a starting point in my quest to try and understand this fake-phenomenon.  He explains fake as follows:  an object, person, or act that is not genuine; sham, counterfeit, or forgery.  This is pretty much how I always had it in my mind, you know, fake jewelry, fake money, that sort of thing. I am inclined to be slightly more confused now…

If you live somewhere in East Africa (I am sure it will not be different in most other places on the continent), you are bound to hear the word at least once or twice a day.  In the country where I live, you will find the word in every newspaper.  My personal favourite though, is when I am told something is ‘fake”, when I present something of high quality to someone here.  That brings me to the question:  what is the African meaning of the word?  I suppose I should give a few examples here:

“Fake cooking oil hits city”,  “Fake condoms hits the market” (this seems to be a very common one), fake cars, fake furniture, fake drugs (medication, but I am sure there must be fake drugs as we know it too), fake food, fake police, fake clothes and shoes, fake automotive spare parts, fake paint, fake electrical appliances like TV’s, fridges and drilling machines.  In fact, there is nothing on this continent that can not be, and will not be fake at some point in time.  And while I do acknowledge that sometimes many items do adhere to my above-mentioned friend’s definition of the work fake, I often failed (this is another word that is equally commonly used and would also provide a good topic for discussion), to see the connection between the item and the word fake.

Let me explain….  Fake cooking oil – cooking oil is cooking oil.  If it is not marketed under the same brand as the ones you know, and even if the quality is not the same as the ones that you know, it still does not make it “not cooking oil” unless it might be vinegar or some or  other strange liquid that does not resemble oil.  In fact, if anything looks like the real thing, and it is not marketed under the same brand as anything else on the market, and does the same, it is probably not fake.  Whether it is of the same quality as similar products, is immaterial, it is still not fake, strictly to the definition of the word fake.  Well, that would be according to my perception.  In Africa, it is considered fake.  Then I must add, something can be considered fake just because it appears different for example, the colour might differ to the ones the people are used to.  If it breaks due to abuse, is will definitely be considered fake.  “Not fake” seems to mean it must be able to tolerate a tremendous amount of abuse without showing signs thereof. I found this out when a staff member and I once got a new chair each from the same reputable supplier, but the one the staff member got was “fake” because it broke within a few weeks of getting it.  Mine does not show any signs of being worn out or any other signs of being fake after years of using it.  Not sure if gravity or abuse turned hers into a fake chair, or was it really just a “fake” chair…  Another example, if you stick a sticker onto a surface somewhere, and the surface is not prepared properly, and it comes off, the sticker is fake for sure! What would make a car fake, I have not been able to figure out yet…

However, my real fascination lies in the fact that even though, there seems to be a very low level of tolerance towards anything “fake”, Africa thrives on these products and people show much resistance to any government’s efforts to prevent anything fake coming into the country. Then there is also the issue of “you get what you pay for”… But then again, if you only have $1 in your pocket, you can only spend $1 and being picky about what you buy is not an option. We would all love to drive Ferrari’s, won’t we??

So next time you are in Africa, and there are fake things around you, know that they are fake for sure, maybe not according to your standards or understanding, but they are definitely “fake” in Africa!

Happiness

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Every day of our lives we see people around us.  I suppose, depending of where in Africa you find yourself, there might be fewer or more people than what the average person might experience.  This is part of what this continent offers: extremes.  You might find yourself very lonely in a desert, or you may find yourself in a small country amongst 38 million other people.

Inevitably, with all these people, you will witness many different emotions too.  I was about 20 years old, when I got to witness something that made me think:  “So this is what real happiness is!!”  I went to a business with a colleague somewhere on a farm in South Africa.  Upon leaving, he took R1.00 (about US$0.10 today) out of his pocket and gave it to a little guy that was hanging around the fence near the gate – probably one of the farm workers’ sons.  The way that little guy’s face lit up… he started screaming to his friends and ran as fast as his two little legs could carry him to show whoever would care to look at his treasure.  I have never seen happiness like that up to that day, and have never seen it since, despite many travels around the globe.  Since that day, that became the definition of happiness to me, it became the measure against which I measure all happiness!  That was pure happiness.  He did not have much experience in life against which he could measure that little act of kindness of my colleague, he was just overjoyed – pure uncontained happiness!!  You have touched my life, Little Guy, in a way you will probably never understand!!  It also showed me once again how much joy the act of giving can bring, no matter how small!

The second defining moment in my life, as far as the definition of happiness is concerned, came for me in the arrival hall at an airport while waiting for one of my family members to arrive.  An elderly couple was eagerly awaiting the arrival of their daughter, son-in-law and new grandchild from overseas.  The happiness on that grandmother’s face when she first hugged her daughter, but more so when she first laid eyes on the new baby and picked her up, I can also never forget.  Her whole body portrayed love and happiness in its extreme form, without the same amount of energy and noise as the little boy on the farm, but they could both not be happier, even if they tried!

Jane Austin said: “Perfect happiness, even in memory, is not common”.  I know I have witnessed perfect happiness at least a few times in my life.  It is inevitable, with love comes happiness.  Well, I am sure love not limited to people only!  For some, joy come  easily, for others, it takes a bit more than ordinary things.  For some it is the pure joy of rains after a long drought, for others it is finding a job, for another it may be a cancer test coming back negative.  Research has shown that people in difference countries experience different levels of happiness in general.  Apparently, people in Russia are less happy than people in Poland for example.

War destroys happiness.  Bitterness destroys happiness.  Loneliness destroys happiness. Sickness death, hatred, jealousy, poverty, money, they all can lay claim to the same.

I have travelled extensively, lived in many places, done extra-ordinary things, but the one conclusion I came to is that happiness is a choice. It is also a choice not to let anything or anyone steal  your happiness.  My good friend Collins (Surname:  English Dictionary) gives synonyms for the word happiness:   “pleasure, delight, joy, cheer, satisfaction, prosperity, ecstasy, enjoyment, bliss, felicity, exuberance, contentment, wellbeing, high spirits, elation, gaiety, jubilation, merriment, cheerfulness, gladness, beatitude, cheeriness, blessedness, light-heartedness.”  Have ANY of these in your life every day, but make sure you choose to be HAPPY!!

Things that I will never understand….

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I am from Africa, and even though I have lived in many different countries, I have never lived anywhere else than Africa.  I guess that pretty much makes me an African, regardless of the colour of my skin.  I quote from Collins English Dictionary:

African (ˈæfrɪkən    Pronunciation for African     ) 

Definitions

adjective

  1. denoting or relating to Africa or any of its peoples, languages, nations, etc

noun

  1. a native, inhabitant, or citizen of any of the countries of Africa
  2. a member or descendant of any of the peoples of Africa, esp a Black person

So basically, Collins and I are in agreement, although they also lean towards most people’s perception of what an African actually is.  Bottom-line, I am an African and proud of it.  The fact that I am a real African (yes, not a fake one, as they love to say here in Africa), does however not mean that I understand everything that happens on this continent.  And really, here I am not talking brain surgery stuff – all every day things.  If I just mention the first few that comes to mind, you will immediately get my drift – I have no need to list everything that I can think of:

  • Why is tomorrow another day?  Seriously, tomorrow has its own things….
  • Why do you drive in the oncoming lane when your lane is blocked or moving slow?  Where should the ones coming from the front then drive if you drive in their lane, and why would you be so special that you need to bypass all the traffic….?
  • Why would you skip the entire queue in the bank or supermarket and go straight to the counter when other customers have patiently lined up for how long??
  • Why would it be fine not to pitch up for an appointment and not let the other parties know that you are not coming or will be late?  If you can answer that mobile phone the entire time you are in a meeting, surely you can use it to excuse yourself from it too!

If I note any more of those, I might venture into far more ethical issues and eventually step on toes, so let me stop there!  Maybe my tribe just differ from other tribes which might explain my lack of understanding.  They say it takes all kinds to make the world go round, and I love that the world go round and I love going round the world too!!  Hope to catch you on that merry-go-round!  Have a great evening!!

 

Stella the blogger

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OK, so after years and years of contemplating whether I should or not, here I am!!  Africa is not for sissies, they say.  Yes, I agree!  I can comfortably say so after many years of experience, not going to reveal how many, because I will be giving away my age.  Not that I am uncomfortable with that – the age thing – I am very comfortable in my own skin.  It is just that I think readers absorb what you say in the context of your age!  So, here I am, just a woman in Africa, loving life and treasuring all good things, feeling blessed for all the good things in my life!  Have a wonderful weekend!  Until next time…

“You’ve got thi…

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“You’ve got this life and while you’ve got it, you’d better kiss like you only have one moment, try to hold someone’s hand like you will never get another chance to, look into people’s eyes like they’re the last you’ll ever see, watch someone sleeping like there’s no time left, jump if you feel like jumping, run if you feel like running, play music in your head when there is none, and eat cake like it’s the only one left in the world!”
― C. JoyBell C.