Thanksgiving
Being in Africa often skews my vision to what is occuring in the rest of the world. Thus, when I received a phone call from my family wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving I was shocked to realize that I had forgotten the holiday all together. I was slightly depressed to know that all I had eaten for dinner was green beans and potatoes. Sam enjoyed telling me about all the turkey, pumpkin pie, and mashed potatoes he was going to eat. I was exceptionally jealous.
As a result, a few volunteers and I decided to meet up and celebrate on the weekend. I don´t think anything I anticipated about the event remotely equaled the experience.
Friday I headed to my nearest neighboring volunteer to spend the night before we met up with the rest of the PCV crew. Three of us met her in town where we decided to get food for the night to cook for her family. I discovered an important item of information while traveling to her village: I may live in rural Africa but she lives in the middle of nowhere rural Africa. In order to get there we had to ride in the back of a decrepit pick up on wodden benches down a long, bumpy dirt road. To the left of the dirt road: miles of unciviled shrubs to the right of the dirt road: miles of uncivilized shrubs. At one point during the drive she said ¨It looks like we´re going to take the off road.¨ The rest of us glanced incredulously at one another: ¨What the hell are we on now?¨ Eventually the shrubs parted and her village appeared. I consider the nature in my village to be beautiful but the asthetics of the buildings in hers were incredible. Most of the structures in my village are brick buildings with tin roofs. Her village was made up of mud huts with thatched roofs painted bright shades of yellow and turquoise with zig-zag patterns. It belonged on a post card: not in my reality.
In the evening we made dinner for her family which is always an entertaining experience as the Africans tend to be exceptionally hesitant to eat anything we cook as it often differs greatly from their food. After, we brought out a carton of ice cream and soon all of usn, in addition to her family, were gathered around it chowing down, eating straight from the carton. It was definitely a stereotypical girl´ś night as we all attempted to sleep squeezed side by side in bed.
The next morning we were up at dawn in anticipation of long taxi rides to get to our Thanksgiving feast. It is exceptionally difficult to gauge traveling time when you are unsure of how long it will take to get a taxi and how long it will take to leave once you get one (the taxi doesn´t leave until every seat is full). Plus, depending on who you ask everywhere you want to go takes from ten minutes to four hours to get to and no one seems to be able to give a more specific time frame. In addtion, no matter where you are going you inevitably get the following response: ¨Oh, that´s so far!¨ It doesn´t matter once again if it´s ten minutes away or four hours. It is still ¨so far.¨
As a result we were on our first taxi before 7am. We were supposed to be meeting the rest of the volunteers at noon and wanted to make sure we were on time. As we left the village the shrubs and nothingness did have its benefits. As I attempted to shield my head from reaping the consequences of the bumps a giraffe appeared to my left. Yes, chilling at the side of the road, was a full grown giraffe munching on leaves. I believe the rest of the taxi´s passengers found our squeals of delight to be a bit odd but hell I´ve only ever seen a giraffe in a zoo. I was rightfully impressed. The ride only got better when we spotted a herd of zebra. I have come about as far from suburban California as possible.
Eventually we switched to the next taxi (I feel like it takes at least two different taxis to get anywhere) and it soon became evident that we were going to be at least three hours early. We sent a text message to the volunteer that we were meeting but unfortunately he was in twon picking up food and wouldn´t be home untill 12:00 so he told us we would have to wait at the taxi stop.
To interject, the taxi stop we were going to was not a definitive stops so before we got on the taxi we told the driver where we were going so that he could tell us when to get off as we girls were completely clueless to the locality. After riding the taxi for about an hour the driver suddenly perked up and said ¨Oh no I forgot to tell you about your stop, we passed it forty minutes ago.¨ (I´m not exactly sure how you forget you have four Americans in your back seat- three of which are white and probably the only Caucasians to ever step into his taxi but what can you do). His solution was that he would finish his route and then drop us off on his way back. Then ended up being fine with us as we had so much time to kill. Eventually we made it to our stop with only two hours left to wait.
Now when we told the volunteer we were going to be early he warned us that the only thing at the stop was dirt. He was not joking. Where we were dropped off had a little shop selling soda and beer and a stand that had fruit and rolls. We decided to make the best of it so we bought some rolls and cold drink (what they call soda), spread out a sarang and got comfortable. Luckily, we had Scrabble with us to entertain ourselves with. So there we were, the four of us sitting under a tree, in the middle of nowhere, playing Scrabble. Within ten minutes, every child in the remote area had come to stare at us. Now news in the village travles fast, and I sure we were the most exciting thing that had happened in the area in the last year. Sure enough, half an hour later we look up and here comes a line of about half a dozen police cars.
Unlike in America, I don´t find the police intimidating in South Africa. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that half of the ones in my area have proposed to me or mybe it´ś because they take any chance to stop me for a conversation about getting a law enforcement job in America. As a result, when the cars pulled up, and twenty police men filed out, all four of us simply started laughing uncontrollably. The sensation we were causing had reached immense heights. The police were quickly laughing too and asking to see our papers (which I know wasn´t about proving ourselves as legitimate but because they were curious and wanted to know where we were from). I was so nonpulsed about the whole situation that I told them I would show them my papers after they posed for a picture. They happily obliged. After their curiousity was finally satisfied they were on their way. As they left, we realized from reading their vehicles that they were all from different cities, some as far as 45 minutes away. I still curious the radio call that went out and the collaboration that took part for them to all come ¨visit us.¨ I imagine it went something like this:
¨There are three white girls and a black girl sitting in the dirt next to the village.¨
¨What the hell are they doing?¨
¨We better go check this out.¨
I didn think we were particularly intimidating but it was evident reinforcement was called for so who knows.
Eventually, the rest of the volunteers showed up and we finally headed out. Now when we showed up to his village it was evident our celebrity ability was overwhelming. His village is small. It´s in the middle of nowhere and 15 Americans had just invaded it. I don´t think anything half as exciting had ever happened there. In addition, it was evident once we got to his village that we were definitely in Africa: the entire village was huts and there was no electricity. For the first time I felt was in a National Geographic Magazine and as evening progressed this feeling would only intensify.
Everyone had brought food and, to a group of people who are used to trying to get down chicken feet, it was miraculous to behold: two turkeys, stuffing, salad, rice, mashed potatoes, apple cider, pumpkin pie, etc. Before we ate we all went around and said what we were thankful for. As corny as I usually think that is, this time it almost brought tears to my eyes. The fact that we were all together and had pulled this off was better than I could have ever anticipated.
After we ate we decided to go on a walk. I want to put something into perspective and I think Carrie put it nicely: ¨At home after we eat we always go for a walk and take the dogs but this is definitely the most surreal after Thanksgiving walk I´ve ever taken.¨ You see this village has a river running rhough it and this river has crocodiles and hippos. So the 15 Americans and every child in the village went to the river for hippo and crocodile sight seeing. This river may have been one of the most breathtakingly beautiful surroundings I´ve ever encountered. We never did find a hippo but we did encounter a few crocodiles. There is no downplaying the fact that I live in Africa now.
Eventually we returned where we spent most of the rest of the night engulfed in deep conversation and killing spiders the size of my hand. It was, by far, the most memorable holiday I´ve ever experienced and worth every one of the six taxis it took me to get home.
As a result, a few volunteers and I decided to meet up and celebrate on the weekend. I don´t think anything I anticipated about the event remotely equaled the experience.
Friday I headed to my nearest neighboring volunteer to spend the night before we met up with the rest of the PCV crew. Three of us met her in town where we decided to get food for the night to cook for her family. I discovered an important item of information while traveling to her village: I may live in rural Africa but she lives in the middle of nowhere rural Africa. In order to get there we had to ride in the back of a decrepit pick up on wodden benches down a long, bumpy dirt road. To the left of the dirt road: miles of unciviled shrubs to the right of the dirt road: miles of uncivilized shrubs. At one point during the drive she said ¨It looks like we´re going to take the off road.¨ The rest of us glanced incredulously at one another: ¨What the hell are we on now?¨ Eventually the shrubs parted and her village appeared. I consider the nature in my village to be beautiful but the asthetics of the buildings in hers were incredible. Most of the structures in my village are brick buildings with tin roofs. Her village was made up of mud huts with thatched roofs painted bright shades of yellow and turquoise with zig-zag patterns. It belonged on a post card: not in my reality.
In the evening we made dinner for her family which is always an entertaining experience as the Africans tend to be exceptionally hesitant to eat anything we cook as it often differs greatly from their food. After, we brought out a carton of ice cream and soon all of usn, in addition to her family, were gathered around it chowing down, eating straight from the carton. It was definitely a stereotypical girl´ś night as we all attempted to sleep squeezed side by side in bed.
The next morning we were up at dawn in anticipation of long taxi rides to get to our Thanksgiving feast. It is exceptionally difficult to gauge traveling time when you are unsure of how long it will take to get a taxi and how long it will take to leave once you get one (the taxi doesn´t leave until every seat is full). Plus, depending on who you ask everywhere you want to go takes from ten minutes to four hours to get to and no one seems to be able to give a more specific time frame. In addtion, no matter where you are going you inevitably get the following response: ¨Oh, that´s so far!¨ It doesn´t matter once again if it´s ten minutes away or four hours. It is still ¨so far.¨
As a result we were on our first taxi before 7am. We were supposed to be meeting the rest of the volunteers at noon and wanted to make sure we were on time. As we left the village the shrubs and nothingness did have its benefits. As I attempted to shield my head from reaping the consequences of the bumps a giraffe appeared to my left. Yes, chilling at the side of the road, was a full grown giraffe munching on leaves. I believe the rest of the taxi´s passengers found our squeals of delight to be a bit odd but hell I´ve only ever seen a giraffe in a zoo. I was rightfully impressed. The ride only got better when we spotted a herd of zebra. I have come about as far from suburban California as possible.
Eventually we switched to the next taxi (I feel like it takes at least two different taxis to get anywhere) and it soon became evident that we were going to be at least three hours early. We sent a text message to the volunteer that we were meeting but unfortunately he was in twon picking up food and wouldn´t be home untill 12:00 so he told us we would have to wait at the taxi stop.
To interject, the taxi stop we were going to was not a definitive stops so before we got on the taxi we told the driver where we were going so that he could tell us when to get off as we girls were completely clueless to the locality. After riding the taxi for about an hour the driver suddenly perked up and said ¨Oh no I forgot to tell you about your stop, we passed it forty minutes ago.¨ (I´m not exactly sure how you forget you have four Americans in your back seat- three of which are white and probably the only Caucasians to ever step into his taxi but what can you do). His solution was that he would finish his route and then drop us off on his way back. Then ended up being fine with us as we had so much time to kill. Eventually we made it to our stop with only two hours left to wait.
Now when we told the volunteer we were going to be early he warned us that the only thing at the stop was dirt. He was not joking. Where we were dropped off had a little shop selling soda and beer and a stand that had fruit and rolls. We decided to make the best of it so we bought some rolls and cold drink (what they call soda), spread out a sarang and got comfortable. Luckily, we had Scrabble with us to entertain ourselves with. So there we were, the four of us sitting under a tree, in the middle of nowhere, playing Scrabble. Within ten minutes, every child in the remote area had come to stare at us. Now news in the village travles fast, and I sure we were the most exciting thing that had happened in the area in the last year. Sure enough, half an hour later we look up and here comes a line of about half a dozen police cars.
Unlike in America, I don´t find the police intimidating in South Africa. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that half of the ones in my area have proposed to me or mybe it´ś because they take any chance to stop me for a conversation about getting a law enforcement job in America. As a result, when the cars pulled up, and twenty police men filed out, all four of us simply started laughing uncontrollably. The sensation we were causing had reached immense heights. The police were quickly laughing too and asking to see our papers (which I know wasn´t about proving ourselves as legitimate but because they were curious and wanted to know where we were from). I was so nonpulsed about the whole situation that I told them I would show them my papers after they posed for a picture. They happily obliged. After their curiousity was finally satisfied they were on their way. As they left, we realized from reading their vehicles that they were all from different cities, some as far as 45 minutes away. I still curious the radio call that went out and the collaboration that took part for them to all come ¨visit us.¨ I imagine it went something like this:
¨There are three white girls and a black girl sitting in the dirt next to the village.¨
¨What the hell are they doing?¨
¨We better go check this out.¨
I didn think we were particularly intimidating but it was evident reinforcement was called for so who knows.
Eventually, the rest of the volunteers showed up and we finally headed out. Now when we showed up to his village it was evident our celebrity ability was overwhelming. His village is small. It´s in the middle of nowhere and 15 Americans had just invaded it. I don´t think anything half as exciting had ever happened there. In addition, it was evident once we got to his village that we were definitely in Africa: the entire village was huts and there was no electricity. For the first time I felt was in a National Geographic Magazine and as evening progressed this feeling would only intensify.
Everyone had brought food and, to a group of people who are used to trying to get down chicken feet, it was miraculous to behold: two turkeys, stuffing, salad, rice, mashed potatoes, apple cider, pumpkin pie, etc. Before we ate we all went around and said what we were thankful for. As corny as I usually think that is, this time it almost brought tears to my eyes. The fact that we were all together and had pulled this off was better than I could have ever anticipated.
After we ate we decided to go on a walk. I want to put something into perspective and I think Carrie put it nicely: ¨At home after we eat we always go for a walk and take the dogs but this is definitely the most surreal after Thanksgiving walk I´ve ever taken.¨ You see this village has a river running rhough it and this river has crocodiles and hippos. So the 15 Americans and every child in the village went to the river for hippo and crocodile sight seeing. This river may have been one of the most breathtakingly beautiful surroundings I´ve ever encountered. We never did find a hippo but we did encounter a few crocodiles. There is no downplaying the fact that I live in Africa now.
Eventually we returned where we spent most of the rest of the night engulfed in deep conversation and killing spiders the size of my hand. It was, by far, the most memorable holiday I´ve ever experienced and worth every one of the six taxis it took me to get home.
posted by Cait at 12:38 PM
1 Comments:
How was the pie?? We had to have cooked 20 to get it right, previous Americans has sullied the rep. of pumpkin puie, it was solidly entrenched in South Africans minds as 'suss' besides, veggies for desert is strange in this sweet tooth continent. (bet you can't find a sugar bowl smaller than a fist and bet most nobody takes less tha 2 tsps of sugar in their tea/coffee!)
I found that the best pumpkin for pumpkin pie was the one that looked like a squashed pillow "turban pumpkin" still a lot of straining fibers was necessary.
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