How the “3rd world” prepared me for the “2nd”

I’m going to take a moment to explain that I do not agree with the labeling of countries as if they are all attempting and should attempt to attain the same things as the United States. Similarly, I dislike the term “developing” versus “developed” when referring to countries. Nevertheless, this is how many people understand and categorize countries of the world, because it is easy and because the US and Western Europe dictates what is "right" for countries. This entry is not meant to say that Uganda is worse than Panama which is worse than the United States. I hesitated a long time to write this blog because I did not want to give such an impression. Rather, I want to explain how my experience living for 4 months in a culture and a country very different in so many ways from my own was essential to my ability to now live in another foreign country, that is not so different, but foreign nonetheless, for almost a year.

There were a lot of factors that went into my choice to go to Ghana for 2 months and Uganda for 4 while I was in college. I could fill many a blog with my interest in the Sub-Saharan area of the continent, but instead I will link you to my blog I kept while in Uganda.

If I could give advice to anyone thinking of traveling abroad it would be:

1. Go somewhere you would never go on your own

2. Go somewhere where you will be a minority.

Both of these aspects of my study abroad experience were difficult and trying, but they pushed me and taught me in ways I could never anticipate or learn in any other way.

I won’t lie, living in Ghana for 2 months and Uganda for 4 was hard. My bad experience in Ghana, however had more to do with the American organization I was with, so I will focus on Uganda, which is where I spent more time anyway.

In Uganda I went through most every stage of culture shock, which is basically the 7 stages of grief. I would say it was only in the last 2 weeks I was there that I reached a sort of acceptance/acclamation stage. Before that, every day was a struggle to adapt and learn. I spent far more time thinking of home than I would care to admit. We on the program would call it “cutting”, “food cutting” was when you would obsess over something like tacos from taco bell, “relationship cutting” was when you talked over who you may or may not have to look forward to when you came home, as almost all of us were in some sort of limbo with significant others back home.

Living in Uganda, we learned to live without a lot of what was commonplace back in the states. We learned, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t miss it. More than a few of us had dreams about having washers, as all of us hand-washed our clothes.  An unhealthy tactic I developed when going out or on trips was not to drink very much water, as the bathrooms were few and their sanitation was typically atrocious. I began to prefer the outdoors or even holes in the floor to actual toilets.

Public Restroom as a Kampala Gas Station

Still some things I really did adapt to and enjoy. I got used to the smell of the city, which many times included trash, sewage and livestock. I accepted that sometimes my food might have an ant or two in it. Though I desperately missed things such as raw vegetables and ice cream, I started to look forward to matooke and gnut sauce, and I still miss Obama chapatti. I enjoyed the public transportation including the motorcycle taxis.  I liked only using a cell phone ever-so-often and I enjoyed the focus and intensity given to me by having limited access to the internet and TV.

Most important to my current work, Uganda taught me how to network and how to present myself as a legitimate professional. I admit that my status as a US citizen gave me much undeserved credibility. I was able to interview high-ranking officials and arrange interviews with organizations on the spot. Not that I could have never done this in the US, but I would never have thought to try before.  

Uganda gave to me a “why not?” attitude and a confidence within my own ability to enact change. Another wonderful skill my experience gave me was an ability to wait, which is truly a gift. “African Time” runs slower than we expect in the U.S. and I learned to anticipate and be ok with that. (A big help was to stop wearing a watch). I also learned to go with the flow and to improvise. By the time the group of us left Uganda, we knew that if something went wrong on our connecting flights and we couldn’t make it home on-schedule, oh well, we’ll get there someday.

So how does this translate to Panama?

I have begun to judge this in many ways against remarks I have heard from expats here, travelers in the hostel, or even other Panamanians. Essentially I feel like I can one-up any of the experiences I have had here so far.

“The service here is so poor”

On several occasions in Ghana I was told that I could not have two different menu items simply because “they do not go together”.

“The traffic is horrible, no one can drive”

In Uganda there is a saying “If you drive in a straight line in Kampala, than you must be drunk”. Here there are very few motorcycles and I have yet to see a cow or a goat in the middle of the road. 

“I feel like I stick out so much here”

Someone's adopted in this family...

 Panama is a city of immigrants with a long history of colonization and intermixing between native Panamanians and Spanish. If I don’t open my mouth and dress right, I can go relatively unnoticed. NOT the case in Uganda.

“Nothing starts on-time”

I would estimate Panama time is 15-an hour late at most. Uganda : 1-2  hours, Northern Ghana: 2-3 hours

Living in this city, I am never want of the necessities: water is clean out of the tap and electricity is dependable.  And I have all of the niceties: I have wifi  and a washer in my apartment and ice cream is within walking distance. Yes, I still get homesick, but it is always for people, not things. That being said, I chose to live more simply than I have in the states. I have yet to buy new clothes, and what I buy is typically the cheapest off-brand I can find. Yet, my life here is more than comfortable and it is comforting to know that I can live with a lot less.

A blog for another time is the recognition that I SHOULD live with a lot less.