Dear Blog Reader,
Thanks for reading the blog. It validates the time I spend writing my posts and gives me another website besides Facebook to neurotically check. As you may or may not know, I have been asked to write a few articles for National Geographic's young-people-living-abroad website Glimpse.org. And... my first article has been published! So please, make your way over to my article called How to Bribe a Swazi Police Officer. Feel free to leave a comment on the site telling me (and Glimpse) what you think.
Also, more blog posts to come soon as I'm moving to the big city of Mbabane, playing in my first Swazi soccer game and going to Lesotho for a week. Stay tuned dear reader...
Best wishes,
Mallory
Your Favorite Swazi Hipster
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
The Nerd in Me
Although my life is incredibly laid back and I enjoy having adventures, I do sometimes pay homage to the American tax payers and actually do some research. I particularly like going to the University of Swaziland Library and digging through the Swazana section. Its stoked full of all old students’ theses and books and papers, published and unpublished, about Swaziland. I was really interested to find a few books/documents written by fellow Fulbrighters to Swaziland. One book was written by a fellow Berkeley student. I was quietly excited by the coincidence of this, being miles away in a restircted section of a little known library reading the acknowledgement section of a book which thanked my roomate’s old anthropology professor, Laura Nader.
The Swazana section of the Mbabane central library is an adventure. There is file upon file marked with stickers that say, HIV, Justice, Economy, UN Publications. Sometimes the files are empty; sometimes they’re jammed with newspaper clippings. I’m not quite sure who gets to decide which newspaper articles make it into the library and which don’t, but it is always an adventure. I’m still not sure how the Swazana section of the Mbabane library actually works though, because every time I go to this tiny, eight foot by eight foot room I get scolded for not following the proper protocol.
The most impressive nerd structure in Swaziland has to be the National Archieves. A beautiful building being refurbished, it stands behind the Parliament building, just past the sign that says “Drive Slowly Parliament in Session,” (which is there permentently, regardless if Parliament is actually in session). No one is in the building and the employees lead you through a maze of hallways, doors, passageways and offices for no particular reason.
In order to access the docements and books in the National Archeives you need clearence. To get clearence you must fill out, in duplicate of course, an “Application for Access to the Swaziland National Archives,” which asks basic questions about you and your research.
Question 11 reads:
“Are you going to deposit a copy of your completed research to the National Archives?”
Question 12 reads:
“If not state the reason of violating Act No. 5 of 1971.”
Then you get an official stamp and someone will help you find what you need. Unfortuneately, do to refurbishments, not all the books/documents are in any particular order, so sometimes It takes a while to look through the rollable stacks of books (like the main stacks at the UC Berkeley Library) to find what you need. Eventually I did find what I was looking for: The Government Gazzette covering all acts and proclamations from 1907 to 1913. This book was actually published in 1913, and I felt very much like Tom Hanks in Angles and Demons when rifiling through it.
So, while any normal visitor to Swaziland would spend very little times indoors, given the beautiful landscapes and endless choice of hikes, valleys, mountains and streams, some of us will always be nerds and will always find the library, no matter where we go.
The Swazana section of the Mbabane central library is an adventure. There is file upon file marked with stickers that say, HIV, Justice, Economy, UN Publications. Sometimes the files are empty; sometimes they’re jammed with newspaper clippings. I’m not quite sure who gets to decide which newspaper articles make it into the library and which don’t, but it is always an adventure. I’m still not sure how the Swazana section of the Mbabane library actually works though, because every time I go to this tiny, eight foot by eight foot room I get scolded for not following the proper protocol.
The most impressive nerd structure in Swaziland has to be the National Archieves. A beautiful building being refurbished, it stands behind the Parliament building, just past the sign that says “Drive Slowly Parliament in Session,” (which is there permentently, regardless if Parliament is actually in session). No one is in the building and the employees lead you through a maze of hallways, doors, passageways and offices for no particular reason.
In order to access the docements and books in the National Archeives you need clearence. To get clearence you must fill out, in duplicate of course, an “Application for Access to the Swaziland National Archives,” which asks basic questions about you and your research.
Question 11 reads:
“Are you going to deposit a copy of your completed research to the National Archives?”
Question 12 reads:
“If not state the reason of violating Act No. 5 of 1971.”
Then you get an official stamp and someone will help you find what you need. Unfortuneately, do to refurbishments, not all the books/documents are in any particular order, so sometimes It takes a while to look through the rollable stacks of books (like the main stacks at the UC Berkeley Library) to find what you need. Eventually I did find what I was looking for: The Government Gazzette covering all acts and proclamations from 1907 to 1913. This book was actually published in 1913, and I felt very much like Tom Hanks in Angles and Demons when rifiling through it.
So, while any normal visitor to Swaziland would spend very little times indoors, given the beautiful landscapes and endless choice of hikes, valleys, mountains and streams, some of us will always be nerds and will always find the library, no matter where we go.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Country Western and other Music in Swaziland
It’s true that outside of primitive djs spinning pre-mixed CDs of House or cliché hip-hop the live music scene in Swaziland is severely lacking. However, given the infrequency of live performances here, when there is a live band, I go. And usually I’m not disappointed.
Back in May there was the One Love Swaziland Reggae Music Festival, which despite low attendance, was quite fun. I enjoyed sneaking snacks in from my car and dancing the night away to various South African, Mozambiquen and other African reggae artists. But the past week at House of Fire was particularly good.
House on Fire is in the middle of nowhere. Actually, its in Malkerns, a lush and fairly affluent farming valley about 15 minutes from my house in Ezulwini and about half an hour from the capital of Mbabane. It’s a cross between a little kids imagination and a big kids wallet. It combines Burning Man with Africa and is truly a site to see. There is a stage with amphitheater seating, balconies with wooden chain banisters, mosaics and quirky statues; details abound. There’s a bar in one corner and out back there is a turret for the Repunzles among us.
Last Thursday the US Embassy sponsored a performance by a jazz band with an amazing pianist. After the main act came another band and just as the crowd was about to thin, on came Stones and Bones (or something like that). Two cheery Swazi men in flannel shirts tucked into tight jeans over cowboy boots. They wore Western style ties, had big belt buckles and enormous hats. One was wearing a jean jacket. And then they began to play.
In one of the most entertaining shows I’ve ever seen, an eager audience couldn’t help but jump up and stomp their feet to a mixture of old Country favorites like “Ring of Fire” and “Bad Moon Rising” mixed with some siSwati country songs. My stomach hurt from laughing. The guys in the band seemed to enjoy the peculiarity of their act, cracking jokes about horses and the Wild West. If they weren’t such good musicians, it would have been a joke.
On Saturday, the Country Western act was no where to be seen. Instead the prison guard band opened for a visiting brass band from Benin who danced about in matching outfits and spoke in broken French/English. This week is a Latin Revolution billed as “fiery,” “sexy” and just plain “hot. In Swaziland you learn that when it comes to live music, there’s no point in having discerning taste. You’d better learn to just dance to the beat – be it Latin, Country, or West African – or you won’t be dancing at all.
Back in May there was the One Love Swaziland Reggae Music Festival, which despite low attendance, was quite fun. I enjoyed sneaking snacks in from my car and dancing the night away to various South African, Mozambiquen and other African reggae artists. But the past week at House of Fire was particularly good.
House on Fire is in the middle of nowhere. Actually, its in Malkerns, a lush and fairly affluent farming valley about 15 minutes from my house in Ezulwini and about half an hour from the capital of Mbabane. It’s a cross between a little kids imagination and a big kids wallet. It combines Burning Man with Africa and is truly a site to see. There is a stage with amphitheater seating, balconies with wooden chain banisters, mosaics and quirky statues; details abound. There’s a bar in one corner and out back there is a turret for the Repunzles among us.
Last Thursday the US Embassy sponsored a performance by a jazz band with an amazing pianist. After the main act came another band and just as the crowd was about to thin, on came Stones and Bones (or something like that). Two cheery Swazi men in flannel shirts tucked into tight jeans over cowboy boots. They wore Western style ties, had big belt buckles and enormous hats. One was wearing a jean jacket. And then they began to play.
In one of the most entertaining shows I’ve ever seen, an eager audience couldn’t help but jump up and stomp their feet to a mixture of old Country favorites like “Ring of Fire” and “Bad Moon Rising” mixed with some siSwati country songs. My stomach hurt from laughing. The guys in the band seemed to enjoy the peculiarity of their act, cracking jokes about horses and the Wild West. If they weren’t such good musicians, it would have been a joke.
On Saturday, the Country Western act was no where to be seen. Instead the prison guard band opened for a visiting brass band from Benin who danced about in matching outfits and spoke in broken French/English. This week is a Latin Revolution billed as “fiery,” “sexy” and just plain “hot. In Swaziland you learn that when it comes to live music, there’s no point in having discerning taste. You’d better learn to just dance to the beat – be it Latin, Country, or West African – or you won’t be dancing at all.
Monday, May 4, 2009
When the Man’s Tired, the Forest Gives
Being hit on is absolutely unavoidable in Swaziland. I would like to think that I’m sought after for my good lucks, charming wit, or unique personality, but the truth is I could be covered in warts with a crocked nose as long as I’m white and female I will have African men coming on to me. What at first may have been flattering has become increasingly irritating and its omnipresence is taking its toll. Here are a few recent examples:
Its frustrating that no matter which tactics I try and use – preoccupation, engagement, marriage, disinterest, straight refusal – there’s no way to slow the advances. My Zimbabwean friend summed up the attitude nicely in an old Shona saying which goes: When the man gets tired, the forest gives. In Shona it’s a hunter’s saying to encourage hunters to keep going even when they are tired, for it is then when they will find their prey. But I think it is easily transferrable to the persistent attitude of African men. Somehow they feel that if they just keep pestering you, you’ll give in.
1. I’m sitting at the internet café where I always go to do my interneting and a man comes up to me and begins speaking French. “I don’t speak French,” I say, not lifting my eyes from the screen. I hope my subtle I’m-preoccupied hint will cause him to desist. He proceeds to tell me he’s from Congo, has seen me at the internet café before and loves my eyes. “Mmm hmm,” I mumble, focusing all my attention at the email I’m writing. He wants to go out sometime, he wants my phone number. I tell him I have a fiancé and that I’m pretty busy (both of which is completely untrue). He wants to meet my sisters, my friends. He asks me how many white friends I have and when he can meet them. And then, he gets my number.
The problem with giving a man your phone number in Swaziland is this: you can’t say no. First of all, they use your phone to call themselves, ensuring that the number is correct. Second, it is totally normal to exchange numbers with almost everyone you meet, so to deny such an exchange would be a gross societal error. The next day he calls me nonstop until I finally have to turn off my phone.
2. Often I go to the offices of an attorney friend, for help with my research. One day when I’m pulling in the parking lot, I stop to let another car out. The car stops ahead of me and my lawyer friend gets out, waves and walks into the building. The driver of the car then pulls forward to let me pass, stopping by my window. I roll down the window to greet him, as is standard protocol in this incredibly friendly Kingdom.
“Kunjani,” (How are you) he asks?
“Neyapela. Kunjani?” (I am fine. How are you?)
“Neyapela.” (I am fine.) Are you married? I would like to marry you.
Just like that. We have literally only said “Hello” and I have never met him before in my life. I just shake my head and pull into the parking lot. Thankfully he drives off.
3. One of the first nights I was in Swaziland, I went to the new Café Lingo for some music and a bit of dancing. I’m sitting at a table laughing to myself as a American girl, about my age, attempts to politely get rid of a persistant suitor. The next thing I know, she has left, and her suitor is sitting next to me, coming closer, whispering “I’ve loved you since the day I was born.”
There are many things wrong with this statement. There’s the fact that he just said these same things to the other white female who had recently left. There’s the fact that he just met me, thus was unable to love me previously because he didn’t know of my existence. And there’s the fact that he was born before me so its literally impossible. I tell him I’m married, but he doesn’t care. The rest of the night he finds ways to poke me on the shoulder or nudge me under the table and mouth the words, “I’m thinking of you.” Creepy!
Its frustrating that no matter which tactics I try and use – preoccupation, engagement, marriage, disinterest, straight refusal – there’s no way to slow the advances. My Zimbabwean friend summed up the attitude nicely in an old Shona saying which goes: When the man gets tired, the forest gives. In Shona it’s a hunter’s saying to encourage hunters to keep going even when they are tired, for it is then when they will find their prey. But I think it is easily transferrable to the persistent attitude of African men. Somehow they feel that if they just keep pestering you, you’ll give in.
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