Reverse culture shock is definitely a documented phenomenon. For some, it is so severe that they are unable to even live in their home country after a relief work experience overseas. In my case, it has always generally been mild. The consumption orientation of societies especially the States, the waste, the chosen ignorance of my home population, they are all hard to stomach after 8 months in Africa. However, after having returned to the States so many times following trips to so many other countries, the gravity of the reverse culture shock even after a trip as long as this past one has definitely been mitigated and much easier to weather. Of course, it is also much easier to glide back into one's culture when you have someone as supportive as Amy and as joyful as the dogs to help you along in the activities of daily life.
Overcoming jet lag turned out to be a quick process. Despite my insistence on youth both emotionally and physically, the effects of transoceanic travel have become harder to simply brush off. Yet, on this return, a visit to a party that forced me to stay awake and the novelty of physically playing video games on the new Nintendo Wii console for hours on end allowed me to transition to this new time zone within 2 days. Consequently, I could not use jet lag to justify my perpetual need to sleep and nap; Amy would have to simply deal with the fact that the normal Jeevan has returned in all of his somnolent splendor.
Initially, the starkest contrast was the infrastructure. The fact that there were paved roads, so many cars traveling at seemingly insane speeds, no chickens, goats, and cows running around in the middle of I-70, a lack of significant potholes threatening to tear off axles, the ubiquitousness of street signs - these were all such a shock to see. Granted, Kisumu is a fairly well developed city but it cannot even compare to the infrastructure of our basic suburbs, especially after it got looted and razed in the aftermath of the elections (the city has recovered significantly from those events, fortunately).
Overall, I got mostly used to the abundance, the drive to consume everything in sight like a bunch of parasites, the speed of life, the necessity of getting so many things done regarding the start of my fellowship. Yet, even as I write this the one thing that I still have trouble fathoming is the amount of day light that we have. In the first few days, I was amazed that we would be in bed by 9 pm or so reading and it would still be light out. Even last night when we were out to dinner with friends, I was judging the time that we should leave the restaurant by the amount of daylight that was outside. When I suggested that it was time to go based on my observation of a deep twilight, all 4 of us were surprised to note that it was 10 pm. Jeez. The regularity of the diurnal cycle in Matoso was so consistent - sunrise at 6:30 am, sunset at 6:30 pm - this enormity of sunlight is not only disconcerting but it also foreshadows the paucity of natural illumination that I will experience in the winter. I'll probably need a light box in St. Louis just to accommodate this reliance on a steady sun cycle that I've developed on the so-called "Dark Continent." I definitely won't be calling it dark when winter comes around this year.
I am glad that I left some time after my tenure in Kenya to allow for a transition to this life state-side. Realizing now how much preparation both mentally and logistically that needed to be done for my move to St. Louis, I would have liked even another month to spend at home with Amy and the dogs, my nuclear family. Probably, I could have picked up some moonlighting to replenish the savings that were drained to facilitate this contribution of blood, sweat, and tears to this worthy cause. I am so glad to say that Lalmba Kenya and I worked so well to accomplish worthy goals, and that Paul and Darcie are such excellent people with whom to leave a legacy that will be nurtured to even greater heights.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Saturday, June 7, 2008
The Voyage Home
I apologize for the delay in this entry. I try not to flatter myself, but I would presume that at least some of you loyal readers would be interested in my transition back to the rat race that characterizes the American lifestyle.
My misgivings about African transport are well justified and the return legs of the trip on the Dark Continent were typical of that third world experience. After bidding all my adieus to the staff and Paul and Darcie on the morning of my departure, Marico, Nancy, and I boarded the Landcruiser to drive to Tanzania. My flight was actually the day after our departure from Matoso, but considering that it was relatively early in the morning, we figured it would be better for me to spend the night in Musoma so that there would be no delay on my part to miss our flight. Before reaching the hotel, we stopped at the airport so that I could verify the departure time. No one spoke any English which is often the case in Tanzania but eventually I did find the flight schedule. It said that departure would be at 10 am.
We went to the hotel where we dropped my stuff off in the hotel room. Then we decided to have a bite to eat before Marico and Nancy headed back to Kenya. None of us had anything to eat that day. We ordered our food, and then lo and behold 2 hours later we actually receive something to eat. And believe me the quality of the food was not worth the wait. It was a similar experience at the Nyanza Club in Kisumu. It seems that if you eat in a "fancy" hotel, service is supposed to be atrocious.
I slept well, woke up, and had my first hot shower that did not come out of a bag. I ate the provided breakfast and met my taxi to take me to the airport. When I got there, nothing was going on. There was no one waiting, no one to take my ticket, no one that had anything to do with getting passengers on a plane for travel. The taxi driver suggested that we go to the Precision Air office that was nearby. And so we did.
When I got there, the person did not speak any English and the taxi driver had to help translate for me in his broken English. It seemed incongruous that a person who has computer skills, who interacts with people who book international flights at least to other destinations in East Africa like Kenya and Uganda where not everybody speaks fluent Kiswahili, where the instructions on the tickets and manifests are all in English had more difficulty communicating with me than the Taxi Driver who does not necessarily need English in his field of work.
Finally, the lady gave me a ticket that had a different time on it. I stopped at the airport again to verify that I had not made a mistake. Indeed, the schedule at the airport and the actual schedule were 3 hours different.
The people at the hotel took pity on me and actually let me nap in my old hotel room despite the fact that they had already made it up. This long part of the story is to highlight the many facets of "TIA" (This is Africa) - incompetence and disorganization juxtaposed with friendliness and kindness. What an interesting place.
At the airport, the people charged me extra for my bags because I exceeded the weight that they normally allow. These rules disregarded the fact that I was an international traveler. I actually did not even have enough money for the charge. So they took everything except for approximately 2 dollars and just re-calculated the weight for the other passengers that were underweight and it all worked out. Jeez.
Once that plane took off, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. Getting to Dar Es Salaam was going to be the most difficult part and it was. The rest of the trip home went fine. The Dar-Amsterdam flight was so empty that I could stretch out in the row; the Amsterdam to Detroit flight was completely full; the Detroit to Indy flight was full but very short. And then I was able to see Amy for the first time at the baggage claim. The prize at the end of the journey for a weary traveler. However, I think Amy would have preferred a shorter hug so that she could breathe.
My misgivings about African transport are well justified and the return legs of the trip on the Dark Continent were typical of that third world experience. After bidding all my adieus to the staff and Paul and Darcie on the morning of my departure, Marico, Nancy, and I boarded the Landcruiser to drive to Tanzania. My flight was actually the day after our departure from Matoso, but considering that it was relatively early in the morning, we figured it would be better for me to spend the night in Musoma so that there would be no delay on my part to miss our flight. Before reaching the hotel, we stopped at the airport so that I could verify the departure time. No one spoke any English which is often the case in Tanzania but eventually I did find the flight schedule. It said that departure would be at 10 am.
We went to the hotel where we dropped my stuff off in the hotel room. Then we decided to have a bite to eat before Marico and Nancy headed back to Kenya. None of us had anything to eat that day. We ordered our food, and then lo and behold 2 hours later we actually receive something to eat. And believe me the quality of the food was not worth the wait. It was a similar experience at the Nyanza Club in Kisumu. It seems that if you eat in a "fancy" hotel, service is supposed to be atrocious.
I slept well, woke up, and had my first hot shower that did not come out of a bag. I ate the provided breakfast and met my taxi to take me to the airport. When I got there, nothing was going on. There was no one waiting, no one to take my ticket, no one that had anything to do with getting passengers on a plane for travel. The taxi driver suggested that we go to the Precision Air office that was nearby. And so we did.
When I got there, the person did not speak any English and the taxi driver had to help translate for me in his broken English. It seemed incongruous that a person who has computer skills, who interacts with people who book international flights at least to other destinations in East Africa like Kenya and Uganda where not everybody speaks fluent Kiswahili, where the instructions on the tickets and manifests are all in English had more difficulty communicating with me than the Taxi Driver who does not necessarily need English in his field of work.
Finally, the lady gave me a ticket that had a different time on it. I stopped at the airport again to verify that I had not made a mistake. Indeed, the schedule at the airport and the actual schedule were 3 hours different.
The people at the hotel took pity on me and actually let me nap in my old hotel room despite the fact that they had already made it up. This long part of the story is to highlight the many facets of "TIA" (This is Africa) - incompetence and disorganization juxtaposed with friendliness and kindness. What an interesting place.
At the airport, the people charged me extra for my bags because I exceeded the weight that they normally allow. These rules disregarded the fact that I was an international traveler. I actually did not even have enough money for the charge. So they took everything except for approximately 2 dollars and just re-calculated the weight for the other passengers that were underweight and it all worked out. Jeez.
Once that plane took off, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. Getting to Dar Es Salaam was going to be the most difficult part and it was. The rest of the trip home went fine. The Dar-Amsterdam flight was so empty that I could stretch out in the row; the Amsterdam to Detroit flight was completely full; the Detroit to Indy flight was full but very short. And then I was able to see Amy for the first time at the baggage claim. The prize at the end of the journey for a weary traveler. However, I think Amy would have preferred a shorter hug so that she could breathe.
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