African Lessons...........

There is something about being at home.  Hard to explain to people who haven't been to Africa, much less East Africa.

Time does not exist. As soon as one arrives in any African city, you lose any sort of idea of time that you dragged along with you from America or Europe.  No one pays any mind to time, and therefore you are left to shuffle along behind all the other people in the airport to what can only be called, the "Bottleneck of the Ages." 

Lines, or cues do not exist in Africa. I think that at some point, Europeans tried to establish that idea, but locals ended up converting the immigrants.  The rules are as follows: 
1)  Use elbows.  God gave them to you to jab into the others trying to get ahead of you.
2)  Use personal space.  If you squeeze slowly into another's personal space enough, they will start to give ground.  This works especially well with Americans-- they hate it.
3)  Distract and attract.  Talk to your fellow sardines.  Discuss the line, their family, what a lovely goat they have with them. Then, point someone else out and steal the distracted's position in the mob.

If you don't believe me, I tell you a story.  I had returned home once without my blasted, yellow, health card.  Knowing that I would either be deported or get jabs at the airport (not advised in AIDS countries,)  I managed to throw a pen on the ground-- the distraction-- while changing hats and running through passport control.  Only a goat noticed and I was free!  

Toilet paper is a luxury. It doesn't exist in all places of the world and sometimes, the varying forms are less than desirable.

When we were in Ethiopia, we had a friend, Melissa, who always carried toiletpaper in her purse.  Her saying was, "A mature woman is always prepared."  Very true since Turkish toilets are not the best thing!!

Driving in Africa is a whole new issue.  Traffic and driving rules in Africa seem to push Westerners over the edge.  The rules, to put it simply, don't exist.

The lines on the roads and the streetlights are "special decorations."  They were put there, in the middle of the night by patriotic citizens who wanted to make the roads look pretty.  Please, feel free to make a left hand turn from the right hand lane and vice versa, or run that red light. 

Sugar is really important to Africans.  I don't know the history on it, but I can tell you it is a big deal!  People will trade gasoline for a bag of sugar in a fuel shortage.

If you have a small cup, or taza, of coffee you should be able to see at least a fourth of it is sugar.  Not the puny sugar found in the US, but the big chunks of sugar crystals that are realy good.  Cokes are even sweeter there, still coming in the bottles and not that watered down stuff in cans.

Flying on any African airline is a whole new experience.  There are apparently, no rules on these airlines, other than the fact that if it is unnecessary, they will do it! 

First example is when I was travelling to the northern part of a third world country on a twin engine plane.  We had in our possession numerous bottles of gin, tons of strange items that one family dragged around "just in case" and we were searched.  This was done by a small man who had holes in his pants.  He got very excited when he found the deadly, hijacking weapon I was carrying--- matches.  They were immediately confiscated and he continued to peer at me like I was a militant.

Sugar ants float in tea, especially in Earl Gray.  Once, my parents had taken me to visit an elderly couple in Mombas who raised goats (always goats, isn't it?)  They were very sweet, but being rather old, their eyesight wasn't what it had been.

The wife poured me a nice cup of tea and applied the appropriate African amount of sugar-- about half a cup.  The only thing was that she hadn't been able to see the plethera of sugar ants in the sugar bowl, which she had now dumped into my tea.  My mother shot me a look that meant, "Be polite at any cost."  But, let me tell you, when those little buggers hit the liquid, they floated around and swam toward the edges.  My mother told me quietly to, "Fish them out."  My father managed to add, "You can always use a little protein."

The appropriate African amount of sugar is about a half cup to every cup of drink.