Driving in Swaziland

Last Saturday, I drove out to Manzini with the brilliant and ebullient Lwazi, a friend from Save The Children. We meandered through Malandela’s and the Malkerns until quite late, and after I dropped Lwazi home I ended up driving back to Mbabane in the dark.

Driving in daytime is a bit like an arcade game. Or the RTA’s Hazard Perception Test on steroids.

Language blues

I’m living in Swaziland, so naturally I’m trying to pick up some siSwati. Some parts are relatively easy, and so things like the greetings (Sawubona bhuti – Yebo sisi – Unjani? - Ngiyaphila, wena unjan?) I’ve got down (for an umlungu, anyway).

Some phrases are just beautiful to say, rolling off the tongue like “lilana lihle” (which means “The sun is beautiful”). Others are fun as partial puns, like “Ulala la?” (which means “are you going to sleep here?” and is applied by kindly programs directors to stray Australian girls still in the office more than 30 mins after close of day at 4.30pm). (I also love that the conjugated and present tense form for “sleep” is “lala”. Oh, and the word for “death” is “mukulala” – which kind of means “ongoing sleep”.)

Where do things get complicated? Well.

For a long time, I could say “yes” (yebo, eg “yebo siyacona” means “Yes We Can” in siSwati) but I could not say “no”.

This was something of an issue, as “no” is quite an important word in any language.

Being of a positive disposition has its limits; sometimes you really do want and need to say “no”.

Swaziland eats

Contrary to my apprehensions, yes, you can get every kind of food here. Most of it is imported from South Africa. Certain types of food that only Westerners really eat tend to be markedly more expensive - most especially, dairy products such as milk, yoghurt and butter. Lactose intolerance is common, and even then Swazis are far more likely to eat emasi than yoghurt.

Everything else, like fresh food and vegetables, meat and cereals are common and not too pricey. I'm also enjoying the South African influence - biltong and koeksisters are favourites!

There's not much of a culture of eating out in Mbabane, so that, coupled with being housebound from 5pm, has meant that I've been developing my primitive cooking abilities in leaps and bounds.

Rising an hour before bathing to turn on the geyser for hot water has also meant that I've taken to the occasional bout of morning baking, with the great advantage of having an officeful of people who will eat my fluffy banana bread offerings. I've been keeping my bread-and-butter puddings to myself though - too good not to keep for breakfasts.

My dinner staple is still stew, which has the advantage of heavy duty boiling of everything fresh which might contain nasty bugs. I've also made venison chops, roasted pumpkins, and quite a nice carrot soup, with about a kilo of carrots and spices I boiled down into a thick, smooth and delicious dish. I haven't been sick yet, but I've been warned to watch out for broccoli.

Swazi Poetry Night at the Theatre Club

Paradigmatically, the most dangerous thing about coming into Africa as a Western volunteer is that structurally, you are positioned as someone who is coming in to help. You are positioned as the active person, and those you have come to work with are positioned as passive. It is a way of thinking that must be avoided at all costs, because, through the best of intentions, you deny the autonomy and thus the dignity of the people around you. It’s colonialism in a 21st century suit.

I knew before I came that to think in those terms was poison, to my own self as well as to my ability to do anything while I was here. Everything depends on respect, shared learning, and good relationships with co-workers, so that projects developed are owned and pushed by locals, not by transient volunteers, and do not fall quietly away when the latest umlungu has come and gone.

*

On my first night, I was glad to receive a powerful inoculation against that poison.

To Africa! the virgin steps

My plane touched down at Jo’burg international airport early morning Saturday 7 May.

The excitement was bubbling up immediately, and an internal voice happily chanting “Eeee! We’re in Africa! Eeee! Africa!” Even the rising sun looked different – bigger and somehow more liquid, spilling across the horizon like thick honey.

Prologue

So, here I am in Swaziland. I’m living in Mbabane for two months, until the start of July. I‘m here volunteering at Save The Children Swaziland, working on legal and policy issues to do with education governance and access to information.

It’s my first time in Swaziland and my first time in Africa. Before I came, I knew nothing of what to expect.