Acculturation

Well I've finally gotten enough complaints about not updating my blog that I'm now (finally) writing one. I hope you enjoy it!

One month ago, my family came from Canada to spend a week with me here in Tchad. It was great to see them again and catch up and spend some family time together before they were back on the plane. Showing them my life here and having them meet the people, see the places, sit through the church services (oh wait, they didn't actually make it through!), hear the languages, and of course, feel the heat, has definitely been eye-opening for them. Now that they are back in Canada, I've had time to begin to digest the experience for myself and think through what we encountered together.

When I first saw them stepp off the bus in Moundou, I almost pointed and called out "Nasara" (white foreigner). To me, they were the true Nasaras. Every day as Dan and I bike to school, or walk to grab a drink, or hang out outside our house, we are called Nasaras by the kids and "real" Tchadians. However, after living here for over nine months, I don't feel like a Nasara at all. I know the back-roads to get to school and how to avoid the cops, I can barter at the market without getting ripped off, I work in the kitchen and prepare "boule," I have a pretty sweet tan going on, and I have a ton of great friends. I have a life here. I belong.

Watching them step off the bus made me realize that they did NOT belong. I must admit, I was slightly embarrassed watching them try and round-up their suitcases, and I almost for a very slight second, wished they would just go back to North America where they fit in. That's when I realized, I must have been exactly like them stepping off the bus 9 months ago. It's incredible for me to see how much I have changed living in this culture and among my Tchadian friends. And I changed without even realizing it!

So what changes have I noticed after my week with my family?

1) Stuff

I couldn't even believe how much stuff my family brought. I literally cried when I saw everything they brought because it was so overwhelming. I cannot even imagine a North American mall after "shopping" at the local market. Previous to my family coming, all of my belongings meaning clothes, shoes, hygiene products for a year, medications etc. fit into a suitcase. How many North Americans can say that all of their belongings fit into one 50-pound suitcase, and one 50-pound hockey bag? I can name very few. Don't be surprised if you see me wearing the same outfit EVERY time you see me!

2) Speed

I have to admit, this one was very hard for me to learn and Dan had to constantly badger me to slow down and just enjoy life. In Canada, I am one of those people who always must be doing something. This was diificult because in Tchad, 'doing something' means sitting in the shade or reading a book, or even just 'thinking' ... and well, that just didn't cut it for me. Even something like walking with my family made me realize how much I've now learned to slow down. While walking home from ATNV, my family was going "North American" pace, and I would have been at least 100m behind them if I had not insisted that they slow down. What was the hurry they were in anyways? We had all day to get where we were going!

3) Time

In Tchad, nobody, and I repeat nobody, is ever in a hurry. If you are walking in the street and you see a friend, you stop and talk. Every time you see someone, whether you know them or not, you shake hands and ask them how life is going for them. And yes, that means that you will often be having a full 10 minute conversation about the weather in Tchad and how they just got back from a trip to N'Djamena, and how their brother is getting married, and how their grandfather is in the village hospital, and how their older sister just gave birth to twins, and how, and how, and how ... before you even begin to mention what you actually wanted to talk about.

Another example, if you are going to a meeting that starts at 4pm and if you actually arrive at 4pm, or so help you, early, be prepared to wait until at least 4.30pm when people will actually begin to show up. You must then talk to these people (the full 10 minute conversation for each) before you can start the meeting - probably around 5.15pm. Consider this a wanring the next time you ask me "how are you." Don't be surprised if I insist on grabbing a drink and sitting down for awhile to tell you about life!

4) The Little Things

I couldn't believe how many "little things" seem second-nature to me, but were never done by my family unless I told them to since they are just not part of North American culture. For example, we went and visited with Dan's host parents because my mom wanted to buy a calabash for bread back in Canada. So we got to the house, and I knew in my head that my mom was obviously thinking about picking out a calabash for her bread. And why not, this is normal for her. However, before I ever even mentioned that we had come to pick out a calabash, we were seated on the veranda, served water and cold pop, and were having an in-depth discussion about Dan's host-parents' children. Finally, after 30 minutes of chit-chat, I mentioned off-hand that my mom was interested in finding a calabash for her bread. Communication here is very indirict, and Dan's host mom knew right away that what I was actually saying was that we'd come to purchase one of her calabashes. She then sent for some children to pull them out of a back room to show to my mom. It wasn't long - maybe a minute or two - before my mom had picked out the one she liked. But don't think that this is finished yet! She may have made her selection, but she still had to admire all of the other calabashes for another five minutes before actually making a choice to buy one. Finally, we left for home 45 minutes later.

Some other 'little things' that my family wasn't completely aware of ... how to tie a headscarf, how you must hold up two hands to greet people from a distance, the expectation of eating the gizzard since they were guests, being expected to make a speech in church, or how corrupt officials can be - ask them about their experience at the N'Djamena airport with the police! And the list goes on.

Now, I don't want to seem like I am ranting about my family because that just isn't true at all. We had a great time together and were always able to laugh about the daily events afterwards. What was awesome was that they were always willing to learn. When I told them that the word for the day was "lapia" instead of "bonjour" because we were going to the village for the morning where people don't speak French, I heard them say lapia more times than I think I ever have said it myself in my 9 months living here!

I personally have also made a bazillion mistakes living here, and it is through these experiences that I have "evolved" into a Tchadian. One time I was sweeping the house when we had guests, and my mama informed me afterwards that sweeping while guests are inside means that you want them to leave and that you were "sweeping" them out with all the dust and dirt! Definitely NOT what I was going for! Another time I accidentally "ordered" boule at Dan's house when I mentioned off-hand to one of his sisters that I really like boule when I saw them preparing it after Dan and I had just finished eating lunch. Oops!

Overall, my family's visit has made me realize that, no, I am not a "full" Tchadian, but I am not quite a "full" North American either. I am caught in between doing my best to learn wihle serving the people in Tchad ... oh yeah, good thing that's what this year is all about =)