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Sunday, October 3, 2010

my African experience

The other day Tim and I were discussing my Kiswahili skills (or lack thereof) and Tim said "You just don't have to speak it. You live in 'White Africa'."

I have thought a lot about this statement. Although the term makes me a little uncomfortable, the sentiment is true. If I wanted to, I could go the whole day without interacting with a Tanzania who wasn't one of the house employees, without using more than standard Swahili greetings. I have ex-pat friends, we go to grocery stores where the Wahindi owners speak English, I attend playgroups at ex-pat restaurants or the International School where English is the language of instruction, my nanny speaks English, my landladies are British...shall I continue?

But everyday that I leave the property, I come face to face with "black" Africa and the dichotomy does not escape me. I am acutely aware of my good fortune, and of the fact that so many here do not share it; that my opportunities set me so far apart from the average Tanzanian that even making the comparison is somewhat silly. Sometimes I think this serves to make the "black" (real?) African experience all the more visceral. If I were out "there" in it, everyday, wouldn't I grow somewhat accustomed? Hardened?


It might be a "white" experience, but it still is an African experience. And it is my experience. And as the time draws nearer to it [that experience] being over I have decided that, even if it is "white", it is no less real.
-kjd

 Pristine. Educational. Advantaged?

 Gritty. Dusty. Personal?

Peaceful. Relaxed. Isolated?

Stimulating. Coarse. Lively?

 Diverse. Welcoming. Deceitful?

Deprived. Dusty. Honest?

3 comments:

  1. Very moving post. You can't cease being who you are. Interesting sentiments in light of our conversation on Fri night (at da club!) about taking on native customs/behaviors. Are you sleeping under a Massai shuka tonight just for good measure?

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  2. I really resonate with these thoughts. (Do you still check this blog? What are your thoughts now that you've been back in the States with so many new life changes?) That tension, even in my memories of Africa, is either front and center or lingering in the background of my memories. I guess I've decided that being white in Africa is a valid experience, different from being a black African, but no less real, just different.

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  3. So true Sarah, thank you for reminding me...and getting me to reread some of these posts. I am going to have to write about my thoughts on being home, now that we're 1+ years back.

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