Country Fair, Swazi Style

This past weekend was the Simunye Country Fair, and so much of the Swaziland population, including a sizeable chunk of the Mbabane expat community headed east for a weekend of festivities. I had no idea what to expect for a “country fair” in Southern Africa, but I must say that I was impressed. The rides were plentiful and the crowds were lively. I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking, but Friday night featured a popular South African band, Freshly Ground, and Bholowja, a “famous” Swazi musical artist played in the line-up on Saturday night.




















But no weekend (nor week) would be complete without some car drama, and indeed there was plenty. Two long-time expats were on their way out after two-year stints with ODI in the UK. Their farewell weekend coincided nicely with the fair, which well over an hours drive from Mbabane anyways, so a weekend stay at a nearby lodge was planed. I know few words in the English language that are often so misconstrued as “nearby” (“soon” may be in the running). The Mlawula Lodge was within the namesake game reserve and just by an entrance gate of a major paved road—sadly, however, the one that gets locked at night. The other entrance is 17 Km north of the lodge cottages, along rutted, bumpy, rocky reserve roads. Now combine that with pitch-black darkness, a lack of intelligible signs beyond “Hippo Pool →”, and you can already guess this story doesn’t end smoothly.

We left the fair grounds a little after 1am, and did not arrive at the lodge until well after 2am. But we were among the lucky ones—well, some of us. Several people had driven their lower clearance cars not realizing that the 17km along a gravel road, as mentioned in the email, meant the treacherous journey that would entail. A few of the lower cars clunked along slowly, while I fell asleep in the passenger seat of a four-wheel drive, only to be awoken at the site of several people from our group pushing their hatchback into the tall grasses in the dark of the night, save for the bright car headlights staring down on us—one of the larger cars ahead had come back to along the narrow path to check on them when the call came in of the broken down car. It wouldn’t start, so we ditched it in the grasses until morning, and all of us (a four-car caravan now turned into 3) pushed onward, exhausted, grumpy, and confused—and anxiously looking for anything that resembled a lodge. Just as someone in the car said it felt like we had definitely gone 17 Km (I would argue it felt like 50, at the pace we had to go), far off we saw some light twinkling, which quickly drew nearer. We had found the lodge—and as we would irritatingly discover the following morning—the other gate.

Some others had arrived, yet some we would find out the next morning, would not be so lucky. There other cars remained circling throughout the darkened park until nearly 4:30am—they could have driven to Mbabane and back in that time. Needless to say, the morning revealed many cranky travelers recounting tales that could out-do each other, and I was one who escaped nearly scot-free (aside from the guilt of not having driven my SUV, but who knew “gravel” meant THAT). However, by late morning, we’d had some coffee, French toast and eggs, and some of the group had departed to get the broken car towed out of the park, and then to play in a basketball tournament held at the fair, while the rest of us lounged the day away, taking in the lovely scenery from the infinity pool. The lodge was completely empty save for our group.



We arrived at the fair in the late afternoon, only to receive the final piece of ridiculous hilarity. The basketball tournament, for which a few of our group had qualified weeks earlier in a starting round, had been canceled. Well, not exactly, of course, because that would be too simple. The organizers had realized too late, that the fair grounds had no basketball court, so they texted players to say the tournament would be held at 10am instead of noon at a nearby location. Only one team showed up, were promptly declared the winners, and the other 8 teams showed up more than a little ticked off a couple hours later.

Just when the fair had me thinking I was back stateside, many of the weekend’s events confirmed the fact that I am very far from home.

My First Car

I’ll tell you what, if you had bet me a million dollars, I would not think I would buy a car—my first car—in Swaziland. But upon arrival in Mbabane, I quickly came to realize that I would soon need to become a car owner. A scary thought, as well the largest tangible object purchase I’ve ever made. (I know some of my friends are already homeowners, but if you think the idea of committing to a car has me stressing, I can’t even imagine…)

After life in DC, New York, and Boston, I was hard-pressed to give up my public transport ways, until there was no public transport. Enter Swaziland. Although there is “public transport” in the form of kombis (aka the matatus of Uganda), white vans that heave up and down the hills of Mbabane, each uniquely named “Unique” or “Jesus is my homeboy,” there are not the boda-bodas, or mopeds, that sped me around Kampala day in and day our for months. But in terms of general mobility needs, driving to the laboratory and back during work, and getting home after dark, and having any kind of freedom on the weekends, a car is key. And the car market here is relatively steady—there is a constant stream of expats in and out the revolving door, so often one can buy a car and sell it not so many months or years later for about the same price, or so I’m told.

Thus began a long search for the perfect car. And much like the search for the perfect anything in this world, it does not exist. But there are plenty of acceptable options, or so they seem. All I wanted was a sub-par option that will still be in driving existence when I decide to leave and sell it. The options were to go to a dealer and take a chance, get the car checked and hope not to get a lemon, or wait for an expat to sell their car on their way out. The former had me panicked; the latter had me bumming rides for two months. Finally, a Baylor doctor and her husband settled on a job offer short notice, and emailed about two cars on sale. One was automatic—did I want it? Um, no, not really, still don’t. Did I need it? Yes.



I am now the (proud?) owner of a 2000 Honda CRV. Yep, Miss Sustainability bought an SUV, and an old gas guzzling one at that—there’s no hiding it. But that just means if you come visit you will have a nice, lofty ride through the game parks (any takers??). Next up: car valuations, insurance quotes, and mechanic appointments. Oh the joys of car ownership. But after two-months of bumming rides, I’m finally a legitimate Swazi driver. I owe a huge thank you to my co-workers who shuttled me around until now—let the payback or pay-it-forward begin.

In support of water...

I had the opportunity to intern at a very cool organization, charity: water, last summer in NYC, working to help raise awareness and funds to bring clean, safe drinking water to the over one billion the world over who lack access. My time there, albeit brief, was a valuable lesson in both the inter-workings of a small, committed start-up (they just turned 4 years old last month!) and the innovative methods that some savvy nonprofits are using to inspire donors and communicate their successes.

In my brief time in Swaziland, I have still encountered that same challenge that nonprofits cannot escape--our goals are tied in no small way to the support of donors around the world. Without donors' generosity, compassion, and support for causes dear to them, this organizations simply could not help the many causes and people they help eveveryday. The world water crisis is a particularly far-reaching cause, in that clean water is the basis for basic human health. Without it, there is little hope for survival. So on this, Blog Action Day 2010, which this year is dedicated to the water crisis, I would like to suggest a worthy organization that is creatively and transparently tackling a daunting task, and that could use your support--http://www.charitywater.org/.

Change.org|Start Petition

Ultimate?

a) Frisbee b) pain c) good time d) all of the above

I’m tempted to go with "b", but in fact, it did end up being closer to all of the above, with a little embarrassment thrown in for good measure.

In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not good at Frisbee. In fact my game compares similarly to my 5th grade basketball/softball skills, which is to say, not promising. Nevertheless, Frisbee is big here in Swaziland, and it would seem according to the tournament, throughout parts of Southern Africa, and one of the few (only?) organized sports that takes place regularly around town. And mainly, the Swazi team was in need of girls, as teams of 7 play and rules stipulate that you must have 2 girls on the field at all times--so my lackluster skills were still in demand.

The tournament took place in Joburg, with 8 competing teams, and it was no joke. People there are athletes. We played 8 forty minute games over the course of 2 days, and then I had also agreed to be in the ladies’ tourney (why oh why?), which added another game each day—wearing army camouflage and tiaras mind you, of course. Saturday night there was a big party, and we even brought the festivities (and keg) back to the house we were staying in—a huge four bedroom belonging to another former Swazi ex-pat now living in Joburg (and a former UVA Wahoo in fact!).

Needless to say, after a second day of 7am wake-up call and several hours solid of running up and down the field (often attempting defense, often looking like a chicken with my head cut off), I could barely walk. After being dropped off back at my apartment on Sunday night, I promptly eased myself into bed around 8pm, and literally could not get up until this morning, when I proceeded to hobble around getting ready for work, and as I would continue to hobble for the rest of the day.

Trade-offs & Good Wishes

I feel very fortunate to have this opportunity to be in Swaziland, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t times I feel acutely aware of all that I’m missing at home. Usually a gchat, Skype session, or good email chain will do the trick in curing some home-longing. But then there are moments where the reality kicks in and I’m reminded that my being in Southern Africa puts me very far away from the people I love and some of the big milestones in their lives. The last few weeks have had quite a few. And while I can’t be there to help celebrate, I’m thinking of all those wonderful friends, and wishing them all the happiness I can from afar.

CONGRATULATIONS to…
Sandy and Daniel Hinchman on the birth of their first child, Daniel Edward “Ward” Hinchman IV! What a cutie--and a little Wahoo in the making! Check out all that hair.



Abby Rotman and her husband, Ben, on their new marriage! Many a Holtonites was there to represent (and drink some champagne?) on my behalf, I’m sure!

Nani Abrams and her soon-to-be husband, Josh! I have no doubt the wedding will be quite the dance party!