Despite the geographical closeness, and
practically daily use of the South African Rand, it’s been easy to forget that
Swaziland is nearly surrounded by another country.
To be honest, I harbored a lot of anxiety
for my trip pretty much until I arrived miraculously at the King Shaka Airport
where I met one of my dearest friends.
I had planned literally all I could plan. There’s no phone book,
directory or any sort of established timetable for Khumbis. It is the pefect
example of organized chaos. There isn’t an ounce of predictability in the
system, except for the fact that khumbis always return to the same place. Khumbis: The boomerang of public transport.
With that in mind, I knew that all I needed to do was to place one foot in the Manzini
Busrank and the rest would simply fall into place. It’s essentially impossible for you to end up on the wrong
khumbi/headed to the wrong place. I’ll try to paint a picture for you.
The Manzini busrank was the most dreded and
terrifying, nearly mythical place during PST. Mainly because Manzini is the most heavily trodden city in
Swaziland (okay… I may be speculating, but am 99.9% sure of that truth). The
rank is probably the size of 4 or 5 football fields strewn across a mass of
overcrowded parkinglots. Organized
because the buses are in one area, khumbis are arranged by location being
traveled to, and there’s even a section for international transport. Chaotic
because if you blink any number of things could happen… such as potentially
being run over, or finding yourself snared into a 5 minute cameo in Let’s hit on her! Swazilands most
popular reality TV series, (which would actually be rather interesting to
watch… if the show were created ironically…). After a few trips you’ll become a
pro at weaving through buses, khumbis, vendors and people, allthewhile handling
the rank with as much grace as movie characters in NYC hailing a cab. Completely effortless, cue the perfect breeze to gently play with
wisps of your hair, and superbly functioning breakpads. Pro status achieved
when you arrive at your vehicle of choice with some fruit swiftly purchased
from a Make. There’s always time for a
snack. Always.
The process is either made easier or
difficult by the number of men dispersed throughout the rank who’s sole purpose
for being there is getting people where they need to be. Beyond the honking,
and relative noises of being in a city, your ears will be filed with a chorus
of “MbabaneMbabaneMbabane! Mbabane?” interspersed with whistles and the names
of dozens of other places that one might be traveling to. Given my paler
complextion[1],
it tends to be assumed that Mbabane is my destination. Having moved past being
an amateur, however, it takes a second of eye contact and blurting out where
I’m going to redirect all enthusiasm away from Mbabane. That is how I found the khumbis headed
to Durban. So far, so planned. (We have reached the end of all I could plan
for).
Having been in my Swazi bubble now for
nearly 8 months, a quick trip outside the country pinpointed the things I had
become used to. It did not occur
to me, that two hours away in South Africa, my hopping on a khumbi (or public
transport---essentially the ONLY means of getting around Swaziland) would cause
utmost panic in the people I was staying with in Durban. It also didn’t occur
to me that what I find to be the most reliable and easiest form of transport
would so shock someone that a free planeride home was offered to me instead. Oh
no, I was not in Kansas anymore. I would just like to note that this is merely
a synopsis of the challenges I ran into while on my brief but incredible vacation.
The focus on public transport is because that was the one thing I was
absolutely sure of, which also turned out to be my biggest cross-cultural
obstacle. I pretty much was in a dream the entire time I was in Durban. The
food, the imagry, amazing company… It was much needed and there is no good way
to express my gratitude for such magnificent hospitality. The transport
situation merely provided a glimpse of a larger reality that isn’t necessarily
relevant (prevelant?) in such a homogenous country like Swaziland. I will say,
it was the first time in 8 months that I went a day (and then days!) without
being hit on, proposed to or feeling like 30 sets of eyes were on me at any one
time. I was temporarily displaced from my fishbowl, and it was refreshing.
My mini-vacation consisted of consuming waaay to much food, attending a rugby match, GO SHARKS! Eating finger sandwiches and drink tea in a decadent hall, dipping my feet in the ocean and not feeling like I had to rush through everything to make it home before dark. It was much needed after the slightly rough start to the term.
I had a less dramatic trip home (thankfully), and it was comforting to reach the border post and return home to Swaziland.
This term is already shaping to be much different than last term, and it's really exciting. There's a different atmosphere and I think we're putting people's passions to better use. I continue to frequently reflect on my role here, but for now it's fun to feel part of the team, and not some awkward outsider floating around trying to find my place. I'm working to better respect people's needs and not be as demanding, although the consensus seems to be that people appreciate being held accountable. I've realized a lot about things here as well. While I am a new set of eyes, my ideas and visions are not all that different. It's clear that the teachers here are knowledge, passionate and dedicated to their work here, and that they've been fighting the same fight (so to speak) for years now. I think in some ways I initially lacked empathy in understanding the struggles they've been through to have what they do today, and that there was never really an absence of trying. It's good to be humbled like that everyone in a while. At the same time, I am happy that the skills I do have, and the things I am interested in seem to fit seamlessly with what I can do here.
Oops, duty calls!
[1] I’m in the
process of collecting my thoughts on race and priviledge and how that is a part
of my experience here. There’s a lot that can be explored, and I want to
dissect it carefully. It’s been interesting to hear the varying experiences of
other PCVs in Swaziland regarding these topics, and I want to note that the
feeling of constantly being in a “fishbowl” is linked closely to this, and
while it is easy to make light of it, I think it’s crucial to contemplate what
my experience would be like if race was socially constructed differently, (or
less visible due to a more hetereogenous population), and how the priviledges
associated with my upbringing were not so easily pronounced here. In sum, I’d
like us all to take a moment and contemplate, “How does our cultural worldview influence and inform our
perception of people from other cultures?”, whereby “cultural worldview” can be
exchanged with “priviledge in association with race or class” as an additional
food for thought. End soliloquy 1.0
