Personal Space? What Personal Space?

Personal space varies in importance and distance wherever you go. Americans generally prefer to have lots of it. People stand a few feet apart when talking and no one wants to sit in the middle seat of an airplane or a car. In Botswana you are fortunate to even get a seat on a bus and people stand a lot closer than I am used to when they talk to me.

I have had so many funny moment from traveling here, but one really sticks out. Buses here have five seats to a row. There are two seats to the left of the aisle and three to the right. I generally try to sit in one of the two seats on the right so I am not squished in, but another strategy is to sit in the row of three and pray that the bus won’t fill up. I try to sit in the aisle, and in my mind, if a person comes along after me, they should have to sit in the middle. Things don’t work like that in Botswana. There is an expectation that you will slide over to an unoccupied seat if someone wants to sit in your row.

I was on a bus and sitting in the aisle seat of the 3 seat section. There was a woman sitting by the window and the middle seat was not taken. The bus was not that full and I had hopes that maybe the seat would stay empty. I took out a book and started to read. A few minutes later, I had a baby thrust into my lap on top of the book and then the mother slid into the aisle seat, sliding me over into the middle seat. It all happened so quickly that I was too shocked to react. I went from enjoying a book in the aisle seat to holding a baby and sitting between two rather large women in the middle seat. I was so packed in that I had to hold my arms out in front of me to fit.The woman smiled at me like nothing happened and took the baby back. We chatted for a few minutes and while she talked to me, she pulled one side of her shirt down and started to breast feed the baby. I went back to my book and hoped the driver would go fast.

The lack of personal space also extends to casual conversations. Last week, I was sitting around just after a meeting had ended and one of the drivers came over to talk to me. He stood very close to me and we talked for a bit. Then he told me he had an important question to ask me. He grabbed my hand and walked me over to a nearby couch. We sat with our legs touching and him holding my hand in his lap while he talked to me. It was uncomfortable in so many ways but I just laughed. In the US, men sitting very close and holding hands might draw stares. Here, it is no big deal and is a sign of friendship. The driver leaned over until he was only a few inches from my face and we talked about cowboy boots. He had seen some movie that had cowboys in it and he wanted to order a pair of cowboy boots from America. We sat and talked like this for at least 15 minutes.

It is times like these that I realize how I have changed. It would have been awkward or upsetting if either of these situations happened in the US. Here, I just laugh and go with the flow because at the end of the day it is really not a huge deal (and it makes for a great story to tell too).

Text From Last Night

It is standard practice here to for a cashier to ask for you to write down your phone number on any receipt that you sign. I have always found this odd and do my best to try to avoid it or just write down a random number. There have even been a few times when I got calls from the cashiers that had nothing to do with my purchase.

The other day, I went to the bank to check on my account. I had to show my passport and then I signed a receipt. The teller handed me back the receipt and told me to write my phone number down. I wrote it down, slid it back to her, and then left the bank.

That afternoon as I was walking from my house, I got a text. Here it is exactly as it was written:

"Hi Dan am kay- the lady who attended u @ de bank 2dy. I wntd 2 jst let u knw dat i admird u...."

I had a good laugh and just ignored it. I guess its always flattering to get a compliment (of sorts) but then I thought about it a little longer. This was an abuse of her position at the bank and of my privacy. She got my name and my phone number from a bank transaction and then texted me when she got off from work. If this happened at a bank in the US, I imagine the teller would be fired or at least reprimanded.

As a male, I have it a little easier and don't get nearly as much unwanted attention but it still is strange.

Dying for Help

There are times here where I am shocked and saddened by what I see. This is obviously from my own perspective on things and should not be taken to represent any opinion other than my own.

I went out to eat at a local restaurant and the owner came over to talk to me. She asked what I was doing in Botswana, and after explaining that I was a Peace Corps Volunteer and where I worked, her eyes got wide. She told me she had a former worker who was HIV positive and was very sick. She didn't know where the woman could go for help and I told her I would see what the nurses at LCCT could do.

We set up an appointment and the woman came in. She looked very frail and could barely walk. I greeted her and then showed her to the consultation room. She stayed in there with the nurses for an hour or so while they learned about her situation and her health.

Basically, this woman is in a terrible situation. She is HIV positive and also has TB. She is currently on TB treatment but is not on ARV's. She has a young child and is currently moving between different relative's houses and sleeping in a different place each night. Her boyfriend was supporting her but he left when he found out she was HIV positive. Most of her family wants nothing to do with her because of her health status and she has no way of earning an income to support herself and her child.

Botswana offers free ARV treatment for citizens living with HIV/AIDS but there are a few hoops to jump through. When a person registers for the treatment, they need a family member with them who will agree to also come in to the counselling and to help the affected person with adherence.

The nurses called every family member this woman had and only her father agreed to meet and talk about taking care of her. This is important because she can get on treatment if the father agreed to attend the counselling and help out. I was encouraged to hear this and was happy to see that we had helped this woman.

That elation didn't last very long. I heard that after having the meeting, the father would not agree to take care of his daughter or attend the counselling. This woman basically now has few avenues and little hope of getting on treatment.

During training, we talked a lot about the stigma from HIV/AIDS. (And I don't pretend for a moment that stigma is only a problem here, its definitely a big problem all over the world). It is quite a shock when an abstract lesson become reality right before your eyes, and the whole thing just makes me sick. I still struggle to grasp how a society can turn a blind eye to a disease that currently affects 20% of the population.

This woman has a disease that will kill her. She could get on treatment and get better and live a longer life if only one of her family members cared enough to help. Ignorance may be bliss but it sure doesn't solve anything.