When In Rome... or Africa!

My brother and I use to joke and say, “When In Rome” when you felt uncomfortable, but yet did the activity anyways.  Well this saying has now been transformed for me into “When in Africa… Do as the African’s do”

I am starting to understand the African culture here petit a petit, (little by little) but last night I was once again thrown off guard.  I was sitting out on my porch with my host brothers, when one of them pulled out a bracelet and said it was a gift for me.  Meanwhile, we already had this discussion about how I could buy myself my own bracelet, and that he did not need to do that for me.  Clearly, my franglais did not work, and the next thing I know I am having a bracelet tied around my wrist.  I thanked him, but was unsure what this now meant in his culture.  After this exchange, he asked if I wanted to go for a walk, I agreed.  It’s interesting to walk around here at night, it gets dark around 7:30ish, there are no lights, except a few flashlights, or lanterns.  But on this night, while most of the area was quite, the stars were shinning, the moon was showing, I heard a large amount of noise, and then saw the crowd.  Little did I know, that Africa uses a generator to set up a DJ in the middle of the market, to have a dance off.  My host brother tried to explain what was going on, and then asked me if this was common in the United States.  I tried to think of last time I saw street dancing… which was never.  So there I was watching boys battle each other in dance in the middle of a quite village with no electricity… Who would have thought?  Then my host brother asked me to take a picture together, which consisted of me looking at the camera and him looking at me… another cultural difference I suspect. haha A little strange… When in Africa!

The next morning I awoke early to wash some of my laundry.  I had such a large amount of dirty clothes that I did not dare bring the whole bag out, for fear of the look on my families face.  So they set me up, with a large bucket of water, a washboard, a bar of soap, and two other buckets with just plain water, and a fourth empty bucket.  My younger host brother started the washing so I could watch and see how it was done; then I jumped in a tried myself.  The trick of the trade is to bend completely in half, watch out for the knuckles and fingers, and just keep rubbing the bar of soap onto the clothes; you must rinse twice and twist all the water out, then hang up to dry.  After my brother continued monitoring me, my mom come over to add some input and my family living behind me sat cheering me on each time I completed an article of clothing, which was many.  At the end, I guess I had passed my African clothes washing class.

After that, I went to meet with the other volunteers to head to the waterfall.  I have never been more excited to see water, mainly because it would be the first time, in Africa, I have been submerged in water completely, and could not wait to feel what it was  like to be clean.  After jumping in, in front of this massive waterfall, I realized the current was a little stronger than expected, but I swam out to the rocks to stand below the waterfall.  Next thing I know, our African instructor is jumping off the rocks into the rapids formed from the waterfall.  Not having a clue what’s underneath the water, or how strong the current is, I thought… When in Africa… do as the African’s do!  Quite a rush, I landed safely in the rapids and rode them down a ways!  Later in the Afternoon a few of us decided we would swim to the other side so we could walk behind the waterfall.  I jumped into the current again, and rode it down to where a rope had been stretched across the river warning us not to go any farther.  I grabbed onto the rope only to determine the current was much stronger than I thought.  The rope was under water, which meant I was too, and because the current was so strong, my bathing suit top was now down at my waist.  At that point I didn’t care if anyone saw my chest, as long as I could try to get air.  Finally, I made it over to the edge, adjusted my bathing suit and continued on my voyage to walk behind a waterfall in Africa.  Well worth the struggle, it was beautiful and the sound was like nothing I had every heard.

The next day, I woke up and washed more clothes; this time it consisted of the neighbors coming over and sitting in front of me, critiquing my washing technique.  Literally, it was me, with my large bag of dirty clothes, washing, while a group of people sat in front of me, smiled when I rang out the clothes correctly, and got up and grabbed the clothes when I twisted wrong.  Quite the process, walking on egg shells while trying to wash!

After, I went to church to show my family that I am religious, even thought I don’t pray five times a day; then stopped by a friends house where some of my friends were getting their hair braided.  Next thing I know, I am sitting on a stool, my host mother has come over to give me elastics and my hair is being parted and braided like Alicia Keys.  Two hours later, my bum is killing from sitting, and we all look at each other, all four of us with a million little cornrows all over our heads, and just die laughing… When in Africa is all I could think!  After I walk home and my family is so happy to see my hair do, they’re all touching my head, telling me how beautiful I am, and finally asked if we could get a family picture with my camera.  Quite amusing!

Another successful week has passed, and my language skills are beginning to improve, I am becoming accumulated to the bucket showers, still have not joined the left handed club, but clearly have integrated due to my hair do.  Does it get any better than this… I don’t think its possible!  

MISS YOU ALL!