I think I had been to a Banana Republic store when I was doing my internship in NYC. Nothing about the brand seemed too creative and different to me. The name was a bit odd; but well in a country where a food’s name is hotdog and an electronics company’s name is Apple, no name should sound surprising. When I read an article where someone suggested that the book Wild Company: The Untold Story of Banana By Mel and Patricia Zeigler should be made a must-read book for MBA classes, the ex-business student in me got interested.
The simplicity of the story-telling was engaging: a young couple read Napoleon Hill’s classic book “Think and grow rich” and worked on answering three basic questions: ” How much money do I want to make ?How long do I give myself to make it? How will I make it?” As their answers guided their plan: they quit their jobs, started a business with $1500 and started selling surplus military clothes. Their reason for quitting their job and starting the company exhorted me: it was not to “become rich” but to have the freedom to paint, write and travel.
The book narrates how it didn’t come easy: how they passed sleepless nights, barely ate and dealt with the unwarranted issues. However, in the end, they made it a company that was successful and unique. They did travel the world and did what they loved: wrote and drew! Despite different barriers, they ultimately did make it. I like the way, they mentioned the idea of “jeito”- the Brazilian term for “there is always a way”(Later, I googled and found that the term can have negative connotations!).
Whenever, I have read about different successful companies and people, what always stood out was the fact that they were brave enough to be different, they were risk-takers. What always came in my thoughts was : what about those people who took similar risks and didn’t make it? I am sure there are many college drop-outs who did not become Mark Zuckerberg, Steve Jobs or Bill Gates! There are probably leaders who died in jail and did not become Mahatma Gandhi or Nelson Mandela. As much as Mel and Patricia Zeigler’s pursuit of quitting a job to start a business for gaining freedom inspired me, I couldn’t help wondering: “But what about those who quitted their jobs, started a business and never made it?”When we read or think of successful people, we often like to believe how courageous, creative or hard-working they were. But, we often forget to give credit to their luck. As Michael Lewis pointed out in his appraised speech, “those of us who are lucky owe it…not only to our gods, but to those who are unlucky”. Sometimes we almost forget or deliberately do not acknowledge our luck; as if it doesn’t justify the success! Zeiglers were lucky and everything else that brought them success!
As I read the Zeiglers’ musing about how they designed catalogues, how they decorated stores, I had this strong urge to experience them. But, that’s not to be: Banana republic is no longer a travel enthusiast’s brand. After the Zeigler’s quitted in late 80s, it was turned into a more upscale brand of what it is today. No wonder I didn’t find anything different about them! Thanks to internet, I found some articles that portrayed the old vintage. They are here and here. Through Alden library, I also ordered the book “Banana Republic guide to travel & safari clothing” that’s supposed to have their catalogs!(don’t you love being in school when the library gives you access to almost any book?)
The favorite part of my book is the last part, I guess, where the authors reflect on their learning. What is unique about Zeiglers’ experience is the fact that they went through success and failure; and they appreciate both. I love the way Mel Zeigler narrates it with an anecdote.
One day Mel was playing “catch the ball” with his little son. When he hurled the ball at his son, the kid caught it and laughed happily “I caught it, Daddy, I caught it”. The next time he threw the ball, the kid missed it and again but still laughed happily, “I missed it, Daddy, I missed it!”
When we play, we should play not for the joy in earning the points; but for the joy of playing the game!
Account of a first-timer’s international research fieldwork- expectations and lessons learned in Botswana
The complex process of doing international fieldwork is widely acknowledged by researchers. In research methods classes, professors with such experience, try to prepare their students with anecdotal accounts and insights from their own experiences. However, fieldwork is a complex issue that can only be learnt by doing; and no amount of lectures or books are enough to truly prepare student researchers for their unique experience and quandaries. However, sharing of experiences are useful to provide hope and reduce uncertainty for first-time international researchers.
As a student researcher, with know-hows from three graduate-level research methods courses, academic knowledge from numerous African Community Health courses and experience from independent research in USA, I had the audacity to think that I am not too unprepared for the study I was embarking in. My professors have diligently taught me how to design research, write field notes and memos, prepare questionnaires, conduct interviews, analyze data and write findings. Additionally, I also learned to be reflexive of my positionality as a qualitative researcher and to conduct research ethically so that I don’t harm my research participants. But, no class has prepared me for instances when I could not even truly start my fieldwork even when I was in the field.
The dubiety with my research experience started with the very question of what type of visa I needed to conduct my research. The website of the Botswana Embassy told that all researchers, other than citizens of Botswana, are required to take ‘residence permits’ prior to entering the country. Knowing the time it may take to get such permit and considering I will be staying in the country for less than a month, the thought of going through the process was concerning. Email communication with our queries about research permit was terribly delayed because of lack of response from the community partner organization for our research. After bombardment of emails to them, we finally came to know that we will not need a ‘residence permit’ since ours is a ‘short research’.
Once this was confirmed, we applied for the visa to the embassy with its website assuring visa within 21 business days. We had one and half month in hand: of course were not worried about not getting the visa on time– and of course we were wrong! It was not only the day before I was flying that I received an email promising me “an on-arrival visa”. However, I did not know that the document needed an official stamp; and at every point of immigration and boarding I was barraged with questions . An apparently simple oversight on the side of the visa officer made my 20-something hour journey from Athens to Gabarone full of anxiety and confusion. When I finally landed at my destination point, the visa officer refused to stamp my passport without the visa stamp and my visa fee receipt which the Embassy never sent me. To top it, the day of my arrival was a public holiday in Botswana, because of which the immigration officer could not contact their head office to check my records. Thankfully, she allowed me to enter the country, with a document that asked me to visit the Immigration Head Office for my on-arrival visa. So, there I was in a continent I have never been to, in a country where I didn’t speak the language spoken by the common people– without a visa and with just my carry-on luggage. I wish I knew the importance of official stamp for all official documents and insisting in getting proof of all monetary transaction.
One of my first and perhaps biggest learning about international fieldwork is the importance of local contacts in the foreign country who can support you for unexpected incidents. No matter, how much you have read about the country and how much you have prepared, there will be instances when you will need immediate support for apparently silly(but important) things like an electricity socket that doesn’t fit the adapter you have bought yourself for the visit to more serious things like locating the exact officer who is in charge of stamping your visa. These are the people who I will remember the most after I go back home after completing this research.
I had expected to start data collection within a few days after coming to Botswana. We had applied for our research permit while we were in the USA, and were expecting it soon. However, the research officer had been on leave, which delayed our process. When the approval process finally got through, we had to make changes in the procedure of verbal consent to written consent. It is important to find out the preferred consent procedure from researchers with previous local experiences; which can be different for countries in the same continent. Something that worked in one African country, might not work in another country. It is also important to keep in mind that any changes made for one ethical review board needs amendment for the home -country IRB(Institutional Review Board) too.
Although we have technically not started our “research-work”, there are costs involved like food, transportation and communication merely because we are staying in the country/field. Because it was our first research experience, we had not anticipated some of the logistical costs involved. I came to appreciate to take account the time and effort it is needed to communicate and manage the logistics of the research project. When working in a team, recoding experience though field notes and expenditures through maintaining records is a necessity for informing, accountability and transparency. I had expected to learn a lot about research methods from my experience; however, I have learned more about project management, logistics and record-keeping, which are crucial components of research-work that are not discussed or taught in coursework.
In the absence of a research permit that would enable us to collect data, I took the initiative to immerse myself with the different organizations that dealt with the issues of my research. It was amazing how much I learned from merely talking to people about my research. Nowhere in the academic literature had I read about passion-killing and high attempted suicide incidents that locals immediately identified when I discussed gender-based violence. It was equally useful to hear real life stories about how HIV-positive adolescents may not know their status and are likely to be more vulnerable to violence. We had read about the silence regarding sexual issues, but it was eye-opening to find that even educators working on sexual and reproductive health would shy away when talking about these issues. It was only after warming up conversations with general discussions about practices in our own country, that the people opened up about their country. This gave me practical experience of building rapport, something we have been taught in the methods classes. I also took notes about important issues that I should be mindful of probing when I am asking questions to the actual research participants. These background encounters have prepared me better for the actual fieldwork. So, as much as I would have loved to embark on data collection as soon as I came, it is a good thing that we unexpectedly got time to get more acquainted with the field. The next time I would plan an international research, I would start preparing further ahead of time and definitely plan on keeping at least around a week in hand to get accustomed and immersed with the local people.
If you have half a day to spare, this spot is a worthy-visit if you are visiting Gaborone. The place really provide some essence of the feeling of traditional Tswana culture that is impossible to find in the urban, modern population of Botswana today. Of course it is created specifically for the tourists, but I really enjoyed experiencing a token of the tradition which I otherwise would have probably never experienced.
Just the brochure with the details
So, the tour started with an old lady greeting us to the lodge. She was followed by other elderly ladies who lead us inside. Once in, she told us that we would be greeted by dancers dressed in traditional outfits.
It was interesting to finally see Batswana dressed in traditional attires by which the media still portrays “Africa” today. Of course, such attires are now only worn for ceremonies. All the men and women dancers had “Nare” written on their skirts which we were told was their totem “buffalo”
After the elaborate dancing greetings, we were invited to sit in the Kgotla(courtyard). I had first heard about the Kgotla when the Ambassador of the Botswana Embassy was visiting Ohio University and met us for a lunch talk. This village seemed to have recreated the setting of the Kgotla. The Kgotla is the place where all Batswana are allowed to raise their concerns or complaints. The woman explained that when visitors come to a village, they must first be taken to the Kgotla, where the chief decides whether it was safe to host the visitors. This made sense because I had read that Botswana was always invaded by foreigners and it probably was natural for them to be skeptical about visitors.
Then the chief(an old man) took some stones from his pouch and started throwing them(which was described as ‘talking to the bones”) and identifying whether we were really safe for the village. After a lot of disagreements and negotiations with the stones(that represented males and females), we were finally considered as safe and “welcome-worthy”.
The chief(apparently) talking to the stones!
Through the process, I noticed the ingrained patriarchy rooted in the tradition and culture where they talked about women’s decision as not worthy enough and how men are more powerful. This, although were just displays, gave me insights about the culture and made me think of its implication on gender-based violence, which was my research topic.
They spoke of a lot of traditional practices that I found interesting and couldn’t help wondering whether they are still practiced. For example, they told that when a married man migrated to work in the mines, he would never return to his wife’s room directly upon return. He would first inform his parents who would in turn inform the wife that her husband has returned. This was to allow the wife to be prepared for the husband’s return; otherwise the husband might suddenly come back and misunderstand if he saw a man in the wife’s room who may just be there to help her kill a snake! They also talked about the fact that if a wife has been unfaithful, she would have to confess to the mother-in-law and get cleansed! Some of these explanations sounded dubious to me; but helped me to get insights about the culture. We had read the importance of “traditional healing” in Botswana even today; and some of these explanations simply helped me to relate to what I have already read.
The “all-powerful” horn
The old lady also talked about this horn which was hung on the roof. The horn protected the family and was also used for mixing herbs.
The Kgotla ended with an elderly woman choosing men among us as her husband and wooing them. It was awe-striking how well the elderly ladies danced. While Ben, the first chosen husband, was embarrassed and danced awkwardly; Zach(the second chosen husband) jumped at the opportunity and bridged the African-Western cultural gap by dancing with the wooing bride!
Later, she gave us a tour of the traditional village and showed us how the women pounded sorghum and prepared food. They also invited some of us to join them in the ‘food-making’. This was almost like grains were traditionally prepared(and are still prepared in some villages) in my country Bangladesh.
A Tswana woman grinding sorghum, one of the main crop of Botswana
Sorghum, one of the main crop of Botswana
We were already hungry and feasted ourselves on the delicious food.
(Clockwise): Maize meal, Seswaa(beef boiled and then pounded), wild chicken, Morogo(leafy green), Tomato something(forgot the name), the flat cakes (diphaphatha), Papa, Beans and Maize
Bojalwa jwa Setswana(Traditional beer called, which is made from fermented sorghum.
After lunch, we ended up buying some traditional crafts as souvenirs.
(From left) T-shirts, traditional whistle, anklet-rattles, necklaces
Overall, the trip was great; and I think this is probably the closest that I’d experience Botswana’s traditional culture in this trip!
I have been ignoring my blog for a while as I immersed myself in the culture and the country of Botswana. Everyday after coming back to the dorm sometimes I checked my emails, wrote field notes, started a blog post(which I never finished), hanged out with people or just skyped with friends or family. Not that I did not have any time to write anything; but blogging was somehow not the priority. Thanks to the people who inquired over facebook or personal conversation about my next posts. This made me feel people were reading the blog; and the outreach of my audience inspired me. So, this blog is for all those people around the world who inspired me. I promise I will eventually post the other drafts I wrote, but now I have to write about today’s “Cultural Visit” while wonderful memory is fresh in my memory. We went to the Thamaga Pottery store, Manyana rock-painting, Livingstone’s Tree and my most favorite location of the day Bahurutshe Cultural Lodge.
Can’t help bragging about the outreach of the blog that truly surprised me!
So, the day started with the a quick breakfast, after which I ran to the Post Office to send post cards. After quite some search, we had “discovered” that postcards were sold at a pharmacy in the Main Mall. Who would think of looking for them there! The lady at the Post Office told that they would reach the destination within 7 office days; I thought that’s a pretty good speed for 8Pula(90 cents). I just hope that the Post Cards reach home before I do!
So, our journey started with a visit to the Thamaga Pottery Botswelelo Center. It took us around half an hour to reach the place. Thamaga is about 40km to the west of the capital Gaborone. It is the second largest village in the Kweneng District, after Molepolole. Of course, with my state-of-art bad direction sense, I would not know the way. But, I googled and found another traveler who has noted the directions in his/her blog.
The beautiful pottery in the showroom of Thamaga Pottery wow-ed us. There were hand-made cups, plates, pots, glasses, candle-stands and all sorts of beautiful things. It was refreshing to find crafts/souvenirs that were not imported from South Africa; although we learned that the clay is imported from South Africa. The crafts at Thamaga Pottery actually are unique to the Setswana culture and follows the Tswana designs that the Batswana used to decorate their mud floors. The initiative not only helped to retain Batswana art but also provides employment to the local community. My American friends also seem to appreciate the fact that the dishes are micro oven and dish-wash safe.
The project originally started in the 1970s as a community-based rural development initiative with the help of the Roman Catholic Missionary. A man named Julian Black offered free pottery training to the young people in the village with the intention to create employment. Today the place employs around 20 local people, most of whom are elderly women. Although the showroom attracts visitors, the initiative faces challenges like absenteeism and slow production process.
I, personally, was very interested to see the pottery making process. But, we learned that the crafts makers don’t work on weekends. If I ever get the chance to plan on visiting the place again, I would think of dropping by on a week-day! For today, I had to be satisfied with this picture!
Our next stop was the Manyana rock-painting site, 7.5 km from Thamaga road. The Botswana government site gives the directions here As we entered the fenced area of this gazette National Monument, the guards asked the number of men and women present in our group. Government tourist attractions like this do not have tickets; but they kept track of the number of visitors. I found it interesting how they also kept track of the gender of the visitors– this is something I hadn’t encountered in my trips to any other countries!
The guide enthusiastically showed us the rock paintings that are 2000-years old. He told us that the San(bushmen) drew the paintings in the place which most likely is where they performed their rituals. They drew giraffes, antelopes, rhino, humans and some different shapes. Although faint, when pointed out, you can clearly find the reddish, orange or black drawings on the rocks.
The guide also showed us a cave. I was so busy taking pictures that I failed to follow what it was about. I think it is Mma Kgosi cave(http://www.botswanabeckons.com/places/places-southern/item/the-manyana-rock-art-site), where the pregnant Kwena Queen hid during the battle of Dimawe (1852).
Lonely Planet guidebook also mentions about visiting Dimawe Hill in the same area where ruins are scattered around the granite hills. But, we didn’t get to visit that place.
After we were done with all the photo sessions, we went to the Livingtone’s Tree.
The place was beautiful and had an enormous tree which someone told was a fig tree. It is said that David Livingstone preached Christianity under those trees and practiced modern medicine. We, of course, were preaching only pictures and went on clicking our cameras!
I had slept late last night after having long skype conversations with my parents in Bangladesh and Bhaiya (brother) in Australia. Isn’t the world getting too small? When Wame knocked my window to call me for breakfast in the morning, I was still asleep. As I rubbed my eyes and told that I’d be ready in half an hour, he informed that my luggage has arrived. I was ecstatic; last night I had thought that my luggage was lost and was looking into procedures of claiming luggage. My brother sent me a very useful link about the baggage rules for delayed, damaged and lost luggage. Check it out here . Although, I thankfully don’t need to use it, very useful information: I think not a lot of people know that you can get compensated up to $3,300 for lost luggage and get reimbursed for reasonable purchases needed because of delayed luggage! I certainly did not know my rights when it comes to baggage rules!
I finally got to meet the other exchange students from other universities and countries who were also in the University of Botswana(UB) at present. It’s interesting how study abroad industry has flourished over the years at an astounding rate of 12% a year. As the world is becoming more globalized, there is more demand for graduates who have wider worldviews and diverse perspectives. Also, as the internet has facilitated communication system through skype, facebook etc. and information availability through blogs, tripadvisor and so on, the uncertainty of going to a different country has greatly decreased. If it was 15 years ago, I think my mother would never have been supportive to such experience because of all the uncertainties that the internet has diminished. Whereas it’s common sense that traveling and new experiences enrich individual’s insights, it was interesting to find that research has actually found that study abroad experiences boost creativity or cognitive processes involved in developing innovative solutions.
It was a great experience meeting exchange students not only from other universities in USA, but also from countries like Switzerland, Trinidad etc. Case Western University seems to have an interesting program for engineers who usually have fewer study abroad programs geared towards them when compared to students in social sciences and arts. They had a mandatory course offered that students could take as a study abroad class or a regular class. The students I talked to appreciated the course being offered through this system that enables them to fulfill required course credits while being at a different country providing enriching experiences.
After I retrieved my luggage, the day was relaxing. In the afternoon, I walked to the Riverwalk Mall with some other students. The mall is Western-styled with fast food chain, brand chains and superstores. If I was taken their blindfolded, I would not know which country the mall was in. This could easily be any other mall in any country. It was interesting to see the familiar Bata and Wimpy in the mall, that we have in Bangladesh. I was told that Gaborone doesn’t have McDonald’s, but has KFC. Fast food is increasingly becoming popular among the youth. This seems to be the identical story in every country in the world. Whereas this convergence of culture makes the world coming together and interaction easier, I have my doubts about the impacts of it. However, that is a long discussion for another day.
To sum it up, today was a much-needed relaxing day. Whenever, anyone asks our Resident Assistant Wame about what he did or what he plans to do, the kid always replies: “Just chilling”. As I sign off, that’s the best way I could think of describing my day: “Just chilling”!:)
I haven’t solved my visa issues so far, my luggage is still missing, the research permit isn’t approved and the meeting with the local partner of our research project got postponed. Seems like the country has not liked me too much and is giving me a lot of misery. If anyone is going to Botswana, it is a MUST that s/he reads the book Botswana – Culture Smart!: a quick guide to customs & etiquette by Mike Main. In just a day, I am experiencing a lot of the things the book mentioned. Re-lesson no.1: “Appointments are routinely cancelled, forgotten completely or changed at the last minute…it is advisable to confirm every appointment in advance– not only the day before, but also a few hours before'(Main,2007, P. 138). This seems applicable not only to Batswana but also for people who have lived here long enough to immerse in the culture. Re-lesson no. 2: People are always in “meetings”(Main, 2007, P.136). Since, I am from Bangladesh, I am used to lack of punctuality, bureaucracy and inefficiency, but somehow I felt this was at a different level here(or maybe I am the unfortunate one to experience the extremes of the country). Interestingly, Main(2007) mentioned the use of the phrase “Botswana time” to express the lack of punctuality; we have something similar in Bangladesh we call “BST: Bangladeshi Standard time”. Perhaps, two years of life in USA has taken away my resilience to enduring delays.
Despite all misery, one thing I cannot complain about is the fact of how nice the people are.
Ms. Beatrice has been continuously assuring me all the way from USA and trying to do everything she could to work with the embassy on my visa issues. Dr. Marape is the Messiah who saved me from my miseries of feeling disconnected without proper adapter(well, yeah I am addicted to laptop and internet). He got me the adapter and padlock within a few hours after I called him and explained my misery. Today, he took me to all the places I needed to go to fix all my problems starting from visa to luggage to electronics. I am sure how busy he must be; but he spent the whole day to help me out. Base, the sister of Bose who works in my college in Ohio University, called to check on me. Wame has been kindly making sure that I am well-fed. My dorm-mates, some staff members from the University of Botswana has been extremely nice to me throughout.
I had been told that it’s winter in Botswana; but I felt like summer here and had to take off the sweater that I wore in the morning when I got out. What I found interesting is how people wore heavy jackets and boots in what I felt was too warm for a light sweater. I am from a hot country Bangladesh; and I couldn’t help imagining whether my skin has become Americanized too! I also wondered, if it is this hot in winter, what happens when it is summer?
Figure: My first meal in Botswana
Since yesterday, all I have been eating is fast food: my first meal was pasta, vegetable and chicken fries and today I had burger and fries for lunch. Seems like my dorm-mates secretly learned my wish to taste local food of Botswana. We had agreed yesterday that they would teach me to cook Papa. They also promised me to teach Setswana in a month. So, naturally, I had taken none of the promises seriously. But, today, when they again mentioned whether I am joining them for cooking Papa; I became excited. So, the cooking spree began. The water was boiling for Papa, Boerewors was in the pot and Naama inside the oven.
Figure: Papa or mealy meal is a stiff white porridge made from maize meal. They told me that it’s usually without salt, but the one I had contained added salt.
Figure: Boerewors is a beef sausage popular in southern Africa. It has the spices added; and all they did was boiled the meat properly.
Figure: Naama is grilled beef
My chef teacher taught me to how to pour maize flour in boiling water. Then, after a while the mixture is stirred. Then more stirring until the right consistency is reached. This reminded me of Shujir Halua(Semolina flour Halwa); only that it was salty instead of sweet and was cooked in boiling water.
It was 9PM by the time the meal was cooked. I was very hungry and had eaten the fish, chips and patties that Wame had supplied me for dinner. However, the food looked yummy and I couldn’t help trying it. I remember the cultural tips in the document Dr. Ice had provided us: ” When served a meal it is important to try most if not all foods and to finish your plate”. I requested for small portions so that I could finish it all.
Figure: The delicious food of Botswana: Papa with Naama and Boerewors
When I had finished all the food in my plate, everyone seemed very happy. “So, you like it!! You have eaten it all!” they exclaimed.
I smiled. Despite all the hardship, Botswana is giving me, I am holding on! It’s the people that matters, the beautiful people…not the paperwork or the bureaucracy.
Did I say how the people of Botswana are called? It’s not Botswanian or Botswanish. The people of Botswana are called Batswana and one single person is called “Motswana”
Signing off today with heartfelt gratitude for beautiful Batswana I have met…
The flight from Gaborone to Botswana was nice. I loved looking at the different terrain of African land through the aircraft window.
Figure: Aerial view before landing in Gabarone
Once I reach the Gaborone Airport, the huge Dumela sign “welcome”ed me.
Figure:Airport in Gaborone
A nice lady at the immigration looked into my on-arrival documents papers and frowned. Again, the same questions: “Where is the seal?” I was tired after this 30-something hours and almost wanted to say ‘Ask your embassy where the seal is; they sent me the document’. But, I used my better judgement not to speak my mind; this lady was just doing her job. I gave the smile I always give and said, ‘This is what they sent me’. ‘Do you know that you have to pay now for the visa fee?’ she asked. “I already paid the visa fee to the Washington DC embassy, ” I paused and then added, ” but I am fine paying again!” At this point, I guess I could trade one of my kidney to get the visa– double payment was nothing!
She asked me to wait. After a while, she came back and asked, ‘Do you remember how much you paid?’ Oh my god! I don’t remember; the visa application I sent seem so long time back! So many things have happened after that: Canadian visa process, my graduation, visit to Eastern Coast and Canada with parents, South African visa process… how can they expect me to remember how much I paid after all this? I opened my laptop to search for the document where I compiled the Botswana visa documents; after a long search, I found that I paid $107. I was so happy that I wanted to say “Eureka!”But the immigration officer wasn’t too excited; “Do you have a receipt?” she asked. “No, they never sent me one!” I said sheepishly. I had posted the embassy my documents; I presume they would have sent a receipt when they would have returned my passport. But, since I never got the chance to send my passport after visa approval, the question of receipt never came.
“I can pay it now!” I insisted; I just wanted this to be over!
“No, you cannot pay twice. Go to immigration head office tomorrow with this document and they will stamp the visa. I can’t verify the payment information since it’s a holiday today,” the officer handed me a document.
Okay, I have entry to the country! When I went to the luggage carousal, my luggage wasn’t there. The immigration process has taken around an hour; so I was not surprised. I asked one of the person, where I could look for my luggage. He said I’d have to talk to the South African Airlines office outside.
As I crossed the green channel, I saw a young boy waiting with the University of Botswana(UB). I was glad to see him; at least one thing happened properly: my pick-up was here! He was a student assistant from University of Botswana named Wame.
After looking through luggage room and searching for another half an hour, my luggage was still not there. I felt bad for making Wame wait; but of only the wait was worthwhile. But, nope…no luggage was there– I gave the airways offices Wame’s contact no. and they promised to contact that number once my luggage arrives.
The Botswana city looked very less crowded from me: I guess I had imagined to experience crowd and traffics. Instead, the streets were populated with sparse traffic and the landscape contained thorn trees and few buildings. I was too tired and frustrated to take any pictures.
On our way, Wame showed me the national stadium which looked all festive and colorful because of the African Youth Games that Botswana was hosting. As Wame took the room keys from Kevin(who I suppose is an RA), he asked whether I have a padlock to lock the room. Dr. Ice had asked us to get a padlock for the UB dorm room where our accommodation is arranged. I had diligently followed her instruction to buy the padlock but I realized I had put it in my main checked-in luggage which was missing. Wame was kind enough to lend me his extra padlock; later Dr. Marape bought be another padlock.
After I collected my cellphone from the supervisor of the other Ohio University group that was already in Botswana, I came back to my room to find that the travel adapter I had got (originally brought by my father from Bangladesh) was not adjusting to the electric connection in my room. It was only then that I felt completely helpless. Now that I think of it, I wonder whether it was because I am so dependent on electronics(i.e. laptop, internet, cellphone) or it was the limit of my patience of bearing all the misery that befell me in a matter of 40 hours. I somehow sent an email to my family of my safe arrival and sent a short email to Shomik before my laptop died out: “I am scared, Shomik…very scared…nothing is going right”…
I was not expecting this to be the longest flight for me since I have travelled from Dhaka-Istanbul-New York City-Columbus-Athens; but this would definitely be the most unfamiliar one for me so far. I have never set foot to the African continent; and comparatively heard lesser travel experiences to this part from people who did. My journey route was Athens-Columbus-New York City-Johannesburg-Gabarone.
The process of receiving the Botswana visa took way longer than the mentioned 21 days in the website. At one point, I felt that I would probably have to shift my flight to a later date. Thanks to the South African Embassy who gave the transit visa without the Botswana visa(which they claimed they normally don’t do) and the Botswana Embassy agreeing to give me an on-arrival visa that I prepared to embark on the flight on May 28th.
Since my flight from Columbus was in the morning, I had to take the afternoon Gobus from Athens the day before and stay overnight at the airport. These were the times when I wish I lived in a bigger city! This is my second time I had to stay overnight at the airport for a flight; thanks to Shomik whose company made this time less miserable! He came all the way to the airport and stayed overnight just to sea me off!
The trouble began when I started to check in through Delta for my domestic flight to NYC. The Delta personnel would not acknowledge my on-arrival document as a proper one since it does not have a stamp/seal. Lesson of the day: ALWAYS insist on seal on any official document. Dr. Ice had continuously advised us to check our luggage through to Gaborone. Despite my insistence, Delta refused to do so since I did not have a “proper” on-arrival visa document. They were about to check my luggage to JFK, but I managed to insist them to check it through to Johannesburg. I just had 2 hours in JFK and I didn’t want to miss my flight trying to claim my luggage; I calculated that I had more time in Johannesburg for that. I am glad that I did that– in JFK I had to change terminal from domestic to international. The shuttle took me to Terminal 4, where a lady showed me my gate when I couldn’t find it on the screen.
However, more trouble was to follow. The South African airways was also skeptical about my document without stamp. Additionally, they informed that I can’t claim my luggage in Johannesburg since I am a transit passenger who will not go to the baggage claim area. The lady dealing with the issue was nice and said she would do everything to recheck the luggage to final destination Gaborone. She warned me “I know you tried, but for future be very firm about checking your luggage to final destination; transit passengers cannot claim luggage midway!”
In the meantime, Ms. Beatrice who has been profusely kind throughout the process of working through Botswana visa, assured me that she is doing all that is possible to make sure that I’ll have no more trouble. Her support calmed me down- the last thing I wanted was to travel 32 hours to a country only to get rejected entry!
Figure: Breakfast at South African Airways; the lunch was better but I forgot to take picture of that
The in-flight South African Airways service was surprisingly good. They had the best airlines food I had eaten in years(nice, hot food with good choices) and the air host/esses were really nice too. I was sitting beside an old lady, who was travelling with her husband to Kenya, South Africa and Botswana on a camping trip. They were both Peace Corps volunteer when and were returning to Africa after years. The husband was also planning to run at Comrades Marathon which is ‘ an ultramarathon of approximately 89 km which is run annually in between the cities of Durban and Pietermaritzburg. It is the world’s largest and oldest ultramarathon race’. I admired him–I wish I could do that when I am 70 years old! With good food, Farhan Akhtar in “Bhag Mikha Bhag”, Peace Corps and camping stories from my fellow passenger and LOTS of sleep, the 14 hours flight went well.
Figure: Johannesburg airport– I liked the quote
Johannesburg stay was comparatively uneventful. The airport was nice and user-friendly. I followed the sign of ‘International Transit’ and passed security following a line. The immigration officers here didn’t seem concerned about my stamp less on-arrival document. There were some nice shops selling traditional crafts. I restrained myself from buying anything, hoping to find similar things in Botswana or hopefully on my way back. The wait for the next flight was long 5 hours–I had purposefully booked this thinking I’d rather wait than run frantically among time shortage. In the meantime, I have received additional document from Botswana embassy which I downloaded using the Alwayson complimentary Wi-Fi and more direction from Ms. Beatrice in case I needed support. I silently thanked her efforts to help; only because of this could I open my laptop and start writing this blog post
Little did I know what havoc would follow once I reach Gaborone. More to come soon…
Dr. Ice has advised us to read as much as possible to prepare ourselves for our study abroad program in Botswana. This concurred with my habit of effusive reading about any place that I plan to visit. However, this time, with a thesis to complete and courses to work on and planning for parents visiting USA, I was finding it increasingly difficult to plan for the Botswana trip well ahead.
Two of the required readings for program participation are the books: Saturday is for Funerals by Unity Dow and Culture Smart Botswana by Mike Main. When I went to collect the books from our OU library, I couldn’t help searching whether there are more books about Botswana. I was, indeed, surprised to find quite some books in the library collection through a cursory search. So, this is my reading list so far before I head for Botswana. Let’s see how many I can complete!
সমসাময়িক বেশিরভাগ বন্ধুবান্ধবের মতনই আমার বই-আসক্তির হাতেখড়ি কমিক্স দিয়ে শুরু হয়ে হুমায়ুন আহমেদ-জাফর ইকবালে গিয়ে ঠেকেছিল। বাসায় বই-পড়ার একটা প্রচলন ছিল। মায়ের বই সংগ্রহের একটা বড় অংশজুড়ে ছিল ওপার বাংলার আধুনিক লেখকদের বই। আর ভাইয়া কিনত সমসাময়িক লেখক হুমায়ুন আহমেদ, মুহাম্মদ জাফর ইকবাল, শাহরিয়ার কবির—এনাদের লেখা বই। মনে পড়ে বইমেলা থেকে এত বই কেনা হত যে বছরের বাকি অর্ধেকটা সেই বই পড়ে চলে যেত। তারপর চলত এর-ওর থেকে বই ধার নিয়ে পড়ার পালা। মামাতো-খালাতো ভাইবোনদের থেকে বা ভাইয়ার বন্ধুদের থেকে ধার নিয়ে আনা বই( আমার স্কুলের কোন বন্ধুই বই-পোকা ছিল না)অল্প সময়ের জন্য এনে গোগ্রাসে গিলতাম। পড়ার বইয়ের নিচে, লেপের ভিতর টর্চের আলো জ্বেলে, বাথরুমে—কত কষ্ট করেই না বই পড়েছি!
পাঠ্যপুস্তকের বাইরে রবীন্দ্রনাথের শিশু সমগ্র ছাড়া তেমন কোন গল্প-কবিতা পড়া ছিল না। রবীন্দ্ররচনায় আমার কাছে অচেনা শব্দের সমারহই বোধ ছিল এর অন্যতম কারণ। ছোটবেলা থেকেই ইংরেজি অচেনা শব্দ দেখলে সবসময় অভিধান খুলে অর্থ দেখবার আদেশ দিয়েছিল শিক্ষক-গুরুজন সকলে। কিন্তু কেউ কেন বাংলা শব্দার্থ দেখার পরামর্শ দেয়নি, তা ভাবলে দুঃখ লাগে এখন। কত্ত বাংলা শব্দের একদম যথার্থ মানে জানি না, স্রেফ আলসেমি করে অভিধান না দেখবার কারণে। এখন অফিসের কাজে মাঝে মাঝে কোন কোন ডকুমেন্ট অনুবাদ করতে গিয়ে দেখি শব্দটা অর্থ সম্পর্কে হয়তো ভাসা-ভাসা জ্ঞান আছে!
রবীন্দ্রসংগীত শিখেছিলাম কিছুদিন, কিন্তু গানের অর্থ নিয়ে তেমন মাথা ঘামাইনি তখন। রবীন্দ্রনাথের সাথে নবপরিচয়ের পেছনে কৃতিত্বটা দিতে হবে আমার ক্লাস এইটের বাংলা শিক্ষিকাকে। আমাদের স্কুলে নিয়ম ছিল প্রতি বছর বাংলায় যে সর্বোচ্চ নাম্বার পেত, তাকে একটা বিশেষ পুরস্কার দেয়া হত। ইস্লামিয়াতের ক্ষেত্রেও একই ধরণের পুরস্কার ছিল। ইস্লামিয়াতের পুরস্কার কখনো না পেলেও বাংলার পুরস্কারটা আমার জন্য বাধা ছিল। কিন্তু তাতে খুব আহামরি খুশি হতাম তা না;প্রতি বছর একই পুরস্কার—একটা অভিধান, কখনো বাংলা টু ইংলিশ,কখনো ইংলিশ টু বাংলা আর কখনো বাংলা টু বাংলা। ভাগ্য খারাপ ছিল কোন একবার– পরপর দু’বছর একই অভিধান পেয়েছিলাম! অভিধানে বাসা সয়লাব হবার আগেই তা অন্য কাউকে, বিশেষ করে গ্রামের বাড়িতে, পাঠিয়ে দেয়া হত।
ক্লাস এইটে কোন এক অজানা কারণে বাংলার পুরস্কার হিসেবে দেয়া হল সঞ্চয়িতা। আমি যারপরনাই খুশি হলাম। বাসায় যদিও মায়ের একটা সঞ্চয়িতা ছিল, কিন্তু তা-ও আসা রাখলাম যে অভিধানগুলো মতন এ পুরস্কারের গন্তব্য অন্যদের বাড়ি হবেনা।
সঞ্চয়িতা পড়ছি তা প্রমাণ করার জন্য, আমি শীতের ছুটিতে লেপমুড়ি দিয়ে মোটা বইটা নিয়ে বসলাম। কিন্তু প্রথম কবিতা পড়েই হোঁচট খেলাম—একী! এটা কোন ভাষায় লেখা! কিছুই তো বুঝিনা! সেই কবিতাটা ছিল ভানুসিংহ ঠাকুরের পদাবলী গ্রন্থের কবিতা ‘মরণ’, যেটা রবিঠাকুর কিশোর বয়সে ব্রজবুলি(আদি বাংলা ও মৈথেলী ভাষার মিশ্রণে ভাষা)ভাষায় লিখেছিলেন। কিন্তু কিশোরী আমি কি ছাই সে কথা জানতাম! আমার ধারণা হল রবিঠাকুরের সব লেখাই বুঝি এমন; আর কোন কবিতা পড়ার চেষ্টাও করলাম না!
স্কুল পাশ করার পর রবীন্দ্র-রচনাবলী ধরে গল্পগুচ্ছ পড়ে রবিপ্রেম জেগে ওঠে এ মনে। সেটাও ভাগ্যবশত! কোন প্রকাশনী যেন কোন জয়ন্তী উপলক্ষে বড় মূল্যহ্রাসে রবীন্দ্র-রচনাবলী বিক্রি করছিল; সেই সুযোগ নিতে আমার এক মামা কিনে ফেললেন ১৮ খন্ডের রচনাবলী। কিন্তু তার ছোট বাসায় সেসব মোটা মোটা বই রাখার জায়গা নেই। অতঃপর রবীন্দ্র-রচনাবলী স্থান পেল আমার ছোট্ট ঘরে রাখা বাসার সব বই-যুক্ত বিশাল বুক-শেল্ভগুলোতে। স্রেফ কোন কাজ নেই বলেই প্রথমে রবীন্দ্রনাথ পড়তে শুরু করেছিলাম; কিন্তু তা যে কবে সুপ্তপ্রেমে পরিণত হল সে এক অন্য গল্প।
সেদিন অনেকদিন পর সঞ্চয়িতা খুলে বসেছিলাম।এখন ইদুর-দৌড়ের কালে আয়েশ করে কবিতা পড়ার সময় কই? হঠাৎ মনে হল, আচ্ছা আমি তো সেই ক্লাস এইটের পর আর কখনো সঞ্চয়িতার প্রথম কবিতাটা খুলে পড়িনি!
কবিতাটা খুলে পড়লাম, অভিধান খুলে অর্থ বের করলাম অজানা শব্দের। মনে হল রবিঠাকুর আমার দিকে তাকিয়ে হাসছেন। বৃত্ত আঁকা সম্পূর্ণ হয়েছে।