February 9th, 2011

I took several convoys and travelled to Gabane with my new friend, Salphie, to meet some prospectivestudents and get a sense of the village we will be teaching in. The village was very rural in comparison to Gaborone, though not far outside of the city’s limits. Cattle and goats ran around the unpaved streets. Most of the houses were traditional mud houses. Salphie told me of his experiences throughout many African countries. 

While walking around the village, we heard music and drumming. Deciding to investigate, we found our way in a 20 X 10 building made of tin held up by 2X4s. Everyone was dressed in traditional religious garb; the women had their hair covered and were wearing long dresses, the men in long loose white linen shirts and pants. Everyone was singing and playing drums, and the young were spinning in circles around a candle in the middle of the floor. I felt completely foreign, but in awe of the experience. 

Afterwards Salphie took me to the local village area where they sell the traditional Botswana beer, chobuku. He kindly bought one for nearly everyone though he himself abstains from drinking. The men there, most of which were elderly, were very curious, and flooded me with questions asking me where I was from, where I was staying, how old I was, etc., They seemed ecstatic when I told them I was American. None of them had ever met any Americans before.  One man offered me a drink of his chibuku. They became even more excited when I agreed to try it and drink with them for a while.  They all asked if I liked it, how it tasted, if we hade it in America, what I thought of it, if I would come back and drink with them again, etc. They seemed very pleased by the gesture of drinking with them. 

Salphie later introduced me to a  family that he knew, and they served us dinner. They have several grandchildren, one of which I am to tutor tomorrow. I look forward to it, but am somewhat anxious as well. I’m sure it will give me a new perspective on education, and will allow me to gauge my own abilities to teach. Afterwards we went to another of his friend’s house, which was incredibly ritzy, even by American standards. The family there was very kind, with two daughters and baby boy. The mother told me all sorts of stories about her time at UB, traveling in Tanzania, and gave me an enormous bag of mupani worms to bring back to friends and family.

I returned at sunset to organize a marshmallow roast with fellow international students and some locals who had before never tried roasted marshmallows.  They all thought smores were much too rich, but really enjoyed the experience.