You know that moment when someone asks you a question and
realize your immediate response probably isn’t the answer you should give? My
time in Africa has been filled with answering the same questions over and over
again, and the longer that I am here the more complicated those simple
questions become. While on vacation this past week I realized that the answers
that I want to give are not always appropriate, and that learning to filter my
thoughts might be the greatest lesson from this experience.
No matter where we go everyone in this country somehow knows
that we aren’t from here. Even in the big cities where there is a super high
population of white people, people just know. Sometimes I feel like I have a
flashing neon sign above my head that reads “Ask Me Why I’m Here”. No matter
who is asking the questions, the first four are always the same. Question one,
where are you from? That answer is always easy and people’s reactions are
usually always the same excitement and people gushing about how they have
always wanted to visit the United States. Question two is where things start to
get a little complicated. This is always were people ask “How are you enjoying
South Africa”? This is where the first filter pause comes in. My mind is filled
with images of no windows in my classrooms, kids getting in fist fights in the
middle of a lesson, and fetching water from the river, and I just can’t help
wanting to blurt out that it kind of sucks most of the time. Unfortunately I
don’t feel like that is an appropriate answer, so I usually go with the smile
and say it’s great and leave it at that, but let me tell you, nothing about
washing your clothes with river water full of cow crap is great.
So once the pleasantries are exchanged we get down to the
real questions. Question three is usually some form of “How long are you here”?
If I could just walk away from the conversation at this point I usually would.
Unfortunately, most of the people asking are taking care of me in some manner
whether it is the taxi driver, waiter, or the cashier at the supermarket, so
for the most part I am trapped until they are done with the inquisition. So at
this point I can either lie, and say I am here for holiday if I want to get out
fast, or I can tell the truth, that I am living in South Africa for a little
over two years. The latter answer then involves an explanation of what I am
doing here and where exactly I am staying. This inevitably leads to question
four, which is often delivered in a tone of shock, disgust, or concern.
“Why?” It’s such a small word, and you would think that the
answer would be so simple, because in my mind it always was. I wanted to go
somewhere that I could give back. I wanted to help people that could really use
it, so I packed my bags, said goodbye to everything I have ever known, and
shipped off to Africa. Apparently when you tell that to a South African they
just don’t get it. Volunteering and giving back just isn’t a thing in this
country, so there in lies problem number one with that answer. No one understands
why I would leave home to come help in a different country, and they sure as
hell don’t know why I would essentially work for free. They all want to know
what I am getting out of this experience, and I have absolutely given up trying
to explain that it isn’t about what I get out of it, I didn’t come here to get
anything. So now my go to answers are about growing as a person and that it
looks really good on job applications. I usually still end up getting looked at
like I have lost my mind, or like I am a child that just doesn’t understand
life.
Once people somewhat wrap their head around the idea that I
am making no money for teaching we move on to their main concern of where
exactly I am working. Strangely enough I thought the concern about this topic
would only come from the white South Africans, who have most likely never set
foot in a rural village, but the black South Africans have shocked me here.
Turns out that most of the black people living and working in Durban grew up in
the rural villages, and they have no intention of ever going back. I don’t really
blame them there, but I find it funny that they are so shocked that people
would choose to go there to help. The black people cannot fathom how we survive
living in the rural villages as white people. Initially I thought maybe they
were talking about safety issues, but no, they are concerned about how we live
with no running water, whether or not we do our own laundry, and how we don’t die
of boredom. It’s like they don’t see the two hands attached to the end of my
arms and they think that I am a baby lost in the big bad world. I forgot how
much I hate being treated like a little kid who can’t get dressed by herself yet.
It actually starts to make me mad, and that is usually when the filtering
starts.
Aside from the four main questions that literally every
single person asks, there are a few others that are fun to try and filter
before I say something super offending. My favorite is when people ask how the
people are treating me. What I really want to say is that the men here are
pigs! I have never wanted to tell more people to f**k off in my entire life put
together. Anyone who thinks it’s ok to grab someone as they are walking down
the street, or make inappropriate sex noises when they walk by should get hit
by a car (I’m a little bitter about this subject, in case you couldn’t tell).
Sadly, I don’t think that would go over very well and I defiantly know that is
not the answer that most people are looking for. So normally I smile and say
that people have been very welcoming, while in my mind I'm envisioning kicking
a whole lot of people in the nuts.
My other favorite is people asking about how I enjoy South
African food. The first thing that crosses my mind is the image of a dead cow
laying in the dirt and covered in flies for multiple days at a time. Then I think
about walking through the meat section at the super market and coming across a
full cow head, hairy ears and all. At this point I'm trying not to gag as I come
up with a reasonable answer. How do you politely tell someone that you would
rather eat anything other than traditional South African food? I have enough stomach problems here as it is,
I don’t need to combine meat that has been out of the refrigerator for multiple
days into the mix.
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