I see that I have a few followers who have commented or sent me separate emails about my entries so far. I am happy to see that some people are actually reading this and that my words might help in some tiny way. Thank you for the support and I will do my best to keep the updates flowing. As a Thank you I will share a few light-hearted embarrassing stories so you don’t think I’m just one big emotional basket case with deep thoughts. I may be on another continent, but unfortunately it is the same Katie.
So, over the weekend I was in a parking lot trying to get out. I was trying to turn right. My brain automatically put me in the right lane waiting for the cars to go by. Next thing I knew this dumb white vehicle had stopped moving and was in my way. I was talking to myself saying “Hurry up buddy, I don’t have all day...” and hoping somehow that he would hear me. I sat there.... He sat there.... He had mean, slanted eyes and a dirty facial expression. I could feel his hostility. I couldn't understand why he was mad at me. Then I finally realized he was trying to turn in to the parking lot I was leaving, but the guy behind me was correctly in the left lane beside me and I was blocking the right side. I looked all around suddenly in a panic as I created a little Katie traffic jam. I gave the “So very sorry” hand wave and tried to quickly move. Of course I stalled. The guy was shaking his head and using bad words. I should have a bumper sticker on my windshield that says, “Blonde American”. It is amazing how difficult it is to change our habits.
The same thing applies to the grocery stores. I was happily shopping and walking down the right side of the aisle with my little buggy. I was not getting a happy impression from anyone in the store either and the first thought was “Man this country is rude.” Even the little kids were not paying attention, walking into me and suddenly looking up to see what big thing they ran into. Then I had the “Ahhh Ha” moment and got on the correct side of the aisle. I saw more smiles after that. It made me laugh again. I laugh out loud so much here (by myself.) Maybe that bumper sticker should read, “Crazy Blonde American”.
The first time I pulled up to the gas station I parked, was pulling up on the brake, looking down and about to get out when this dude was immediately in my space and at my window. I figured “Crap. I’m already getting mugged. Unbelievable.” I was quickly trying to think about my next move, but he did not say anything and he was just staring at me. Really close. I sat there speechless for a few seconds and timidly rolled my window down a tiny crack and said “Excuse me?” and he said “What?” and I said “Huh?” I think I shook my head confused and then I saw his big white pearly smile and he said “Sista, how much?” I collected my cool thoughts and quickly said “300 Rand” - not having a clue how much it cost to fill my little car up. My heart beat relaxed, I laughed again and calmed down, feeling horrible that I had wrongfully judged this black African who was merely excellent at customer service and was probably taught to get to the customer quick before they change their mind. He might have been the MVP petrol attendant for all I knew. The best part of the story is after I paid (and was so glad to get out of there), I stalled yet again and then started rolling back and almost hit the guy behind me. Mr. MVP was still laughing.
Everywhere you go here you are expected to tip the parking attendants. You can’t park anywhere without someone approaching you. They are supposed to be wearing a vest, but some don’t. That part made me a little nervous at first as well. It is customary to tip them anywhere from 1-5 Rand (depending on length of stay) as a non-verbal agreement that they will watch your car.(not really) They are in every possible place that a vehicle could park. At first I was a little annoyed, but I don’t mind anymore and feel good that I am helping feed their families and it is an honest job. It is the governments way to create jobs, which is the same reason for the gas attendants. I really can’t imagine these poor people in the middle of summer stuck outside on the pavement for 8+ hours. Makes you appreciate your own job. Oh wait.... I don’t have one.
It is also still customary here for the white Afrikaans to have a black maid. There are no white maids, only black. When I first learned of this I was in shock and felt that it was so racially wrong. I figured that this sort of culture would have ended a decade ago, but apparently it hasn’t. It is another way to create jobs for the less fortunate who have limited education. From what I understand the older black woman feel honored and it is a privileged high paying career for their communities. The “Mamas” cook all the meals, clean the house, do the laundry, wash the dishes and might spend more time with the kids vs. their parents. A lot of families take their Mama’s on vacations with them. It is a good job for them and according to the white people it is their way to help out. I asked what the Mama’s get paid and I was shocked to know how little they are paid a day and consider it a good income. I wasn’t sure if I should voice my opinion on the matter with these White Afrikaans or keep quiet. I asked a few more questions in regards to the history, etc, and then I shut up. I don’t know enough to have a fair opinion. What does an American know who lives in a complete different world? Who am I to judge? From what my new friends tell me some of the younger black generation finds it insulting and don’t have the same work ethics as the older generation does. This younger generation wasn’t old enough to remember the years of separation and Apartheid, whereas it has always been part of the older Mama’s culture and they are okay with it. And.... that is all I have to say about that.
On a language note, I have learned to change my accent when asking for water. I was getting a lot of “Sorry?” responses with a slightly turned head. My American Michigan accent of “What’r” doesn’t seem to translate very well. I need to take on more of a British“Wooter” accent. Bai Danki is my “Thank you very much” which I quickly learned. I am starting to catch onto other words, but then can’t remember how to say them again. My throat hurts from trying to practice the flemy throat sounds in the Afrikaans language or the multiple clicks of Xhosa. Maybe that is why I’m sick right now with a horrible cold, sore throat and heavy cough. I think my immune system is just down with the new climate, new germs and many children breathing on me with snot running down their little cold noses.
Ahhh the wonderful Joys of serving!
No comments:
Post a Comment