Toasted: A Personal Journey

           

Botswana in Tan

From an early age I have traveled this country and continent, visiting both our neighbors to the north and south.  I have for a long time longed to do more, travel further see more of this world, for our lives are too short to spend in one place, at least this is my opinion.  Last summer I had the opportunity and good fortune to travel to Africa, specifically South Africa, Botswana, Zimbabwe, and Zambia (sort of).  I spent most of June living in Gaborone, Botswana at the University of Botswana.  It is there where my story takes place.

            It was my fifth day in Botswana, seventh on the Continent.  I had thought I began to figure things out.  The initial culture shock for many had begun to wear off as we adjusted to life in the country.  The culture was foreign to us but people there were generally friendly, and English was spoken by all, part of the reason I chose this particular trip.  Today was our first full day of classroom classes, aka lectures all day. Although I learned much in the classroom that allowed me to greater understand the people of Botswana, their history and culture, I did learn a lesson I had not expected to have.

Student Union, Center; Our Classroom Building, Left; University of Botswana, Gaborone, Botswana

            In the Student Union, there were two competing food counters that sold food, we had access to a meal plan in a separate facility, but after a few days the food grew increasingly repetitive.  So on this day we decided to visit one counter to mix it up.  We learned quickly the idea of a “line” as we have in the US did not really apply to Botswana and we had to be much more aggressive in our ordering, but none the less we eventually got to place our order.

            It was then I received a great lesson from the man serving me.  I ordered a tomato and cheese sandwich.  He then asked “Do you want it toasted?”  This seemed like a little surprise to me so I said “sure, toasted”.  The then responded with “we don’t have a toaster”  With a dazed and confused look I paid for my sandwich and went to class.

            I told my class about it many of whom just laughed, it really was a strange interaction that I would never have again even though I would continue to frequent the food stand.  I thought about the incident for some time after the occurrence.  I talked to the professor about it trying to figure it out and they simply stated that perhaps it was a misunderstanding.

It all clicked.  I had been making the assumption, that because we all spoke the same language it has all the same meaning.  English like any language is a simple blue print, and depending on how you read the blue print it does not always mean the same thing to different people.  My take away was simple, just because you speak the same language doesn’t mean you always communicate.

I have tried to write this as Native Americans might.  In the Native tradition it normal to start any story at the true beginning, but I decided to spare the reader of reading all the ways from creation to get this point across.  As in Native American stories, I have written a story that contributes to who I am a person today and why I think it is a significant life lesson.

-Adam