Gone South... and back again
I didn't take my camera. I should have. It was all so shiny! That's the first thing I noticed coming into Johannesburg on the direct flight from Tete. The airport is BIG and clean and beautiful and efficient. I got off the plane, rode the shuttle to the terminal, walked straight through the modern passport control maze all stamped and greeted and smiled at. Then signs directed me to the baggage claim where my suitcase trundled 'round the belt to me in about 3 minutes. I followed more signs through the green line in customs and *poof* I was out in the lobby looking for my ride. Amazing. Africa, but not so African. I'm sure I had a silly grin on my face the whole time just marveling at the order of it all.
This is life ordered in a western grid... we feel at ease when we are directed almost automatically and impersonally through the big, scary unknown airport. I'm sure a Mozambican wouldn't have felt at ease at all. He'd probably feel abandoned and alone. He might be wondering why no one is interested in his welfare; no one is coming up and asking where he's going and looking at his ID. Where's the, "Can we take your bags?" and "Can we get you a car?" He'd automatically feel respected and cared for if that happened, but to just be left to read signs and walk alone with your stuff barely noticed through a kilometer of terminal would feel very uncertain, I think.
So, we look at things differently. If I think of it that way, I might be more understanding next time I'm greeted by people in unmarked clothes asking to help me through the unmarked processes at an airport. As is, it makes me uncomfortable to share personal info with strangers without the authority of a badge. If they offer to help me with my bags I wonder if they'll run off or how much I will have to hand over to make them happy they helped me. I've learned to be suspicious, but I don't know where. I've actually never had a bag stolen at any airport anywhere in the world. People who say they want to help generally DO help. Usually they are polite and usually they are happy with a reasonable tip (though I've had some guys fight over who should be the one to help me in the first place). I guess I should be a little more understanding and a little less defensive.
But, then again, if I'm in an American airport and a guy without a badge wants to see my ticket and help me with my bags, I'm gonna hang on to both! I guess that is where I learned to be suspicious of strangers! That is the baggage I'm carrying into my overseas experience. Fair enough, I guess. I'm a product of my home culture and I've heard enough stories to keep me on my guard. I think I'll just enjoy the times I get to walk through alone, and appreciate the times someone notices I need help. I'll remember where I am and be alert to irregularities. I'll smile at strangers and keep my eyes on my stuff. I'll just remember how nice it is to be back... whichever world it is I'm coming back to that day.
This is life ordered in a western grid... we feel at ease when we are directed almost automatically and impersonally through the big, scary unknown airport. I'm sure a Mozambican wouldn't have felt at ease at all. He'd probably feel abandoned and alone. He might be wondering why no one is interested in his welfare; no one is coming up and asking where he's going and looking at his ID. Where's the, "Can we take your bags?" and "Can we get you a car?" He'd automatically feel respected and cared for if that happened, but to just be left to read signs and walk alone with your stuff barely noticed through a kilometer of terminal would feel very uncertain, I think.
So, we look at things differently. If I think of it that way, I might be more understanding next time I'm greeted by people in unmarked clothes asking to help me through the unmarked processes at an airport. As is, it makes me uncomfortable to share personal info with strangers without the authority of a badge. If they offer to help me with my bags I wonder if they'll run off or how much I will have to hand over to make them happy they helped me. I've learned to be suspicious, but I don't know where. I've actually never had a bag stolen at any airport anywhere in the world. People who say they want to help generally DO help. Usually they are polite and usually they are happy with a reasonable tip (though I've had some guys fight over who should be the one to help me in the first place). I guess I should be a little more understanding and a little less defensive.
But, then again, if I'm in an American airport and a guy without a badge wants to see my ticket and help me with my bags, I'm gonna hang on to both! I guess that is where I learned to be suspicious of strangers! That is the baggage I'm carrying into my overseas experience. Fair enough, I guess. I'm a product of my home culture and I've heard enough stories to keep me on my guard. I think I'll just enjoy the times I get to walk through alone, and appreciate the times someone notices I need help. I'll remember where I am and be alert to irregularities. I'll smile at strangers and keep my eyes on my stuff. I'll just remember how nice it is to be back... whichever world it is I'm coming back to that day.
Fantastic post, Jeni. So true, so true. I never thought of how uncomfortable a Beninese person would feel in one of those efficient airports that I love.
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