so, yeah. meet up is still on at parc jarry (decastelnau metro) i will be hanging out by the fountain whihc is close to the entrance near the metro.

please come. bring a freind. right now i am sitting on all of 4 responses! but of course i am happy to meet everyone who can make it.

so, yeah…tomorrow…parc jarry…the fountain…meet up…

see you there!

warona

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i find that everytime the olympics or world cup or some such huge world sports event rolls around, i am living in a different country.

2008- canada

2004 – botswana

2000 – u.s.a

1996 – u.s.a

1992 – swaziland

1988 – botswana

1984 – ethiopia

i just thought it’d be fun to see how many countries you have watched the olympics from and does that influence who you cheer for once your own (or adopted) country is out, or if they are not participating. i watched the opening ceremony and i definitely felt a weird swell of pride when the canadian team came in. i was like “huh, guess i have been living here a while!”

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alright babes and dudes. let’s do this thing, yeah?

so i am proposing a potluck picnic at Parc Jarry on the 30th of August at 3p.m.

bring your spouse, or a friend, no worries, no hassle.

the best metro is decatelnau, the park is just a few hundred metres north. or if you are near the 55 st laurent bus, take it north and you should bump into the park at some time. ask the bus driver to let you know.

what else? just email me or hit me up on facebook for any questions. oh, we’ll set up around the fountain, so just look for the fountain and we should be close by.

hooray tck montreal meet up!

love and daisies

warona

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ok, this is just your basic tck rant. you know how it is, something stupid happens and you just want to tell someone who will get it immediately without any explanaition or defensive mechanisms kicking up. so i turn to you all. feel free to add your own. like i said, just an old fashioned bitch-fest (so wrong, but feels so right!)

ok, so i am from botswana as most of you know. i am sure you have also heard me tell a story or two of how a LOT of people have never heard of the country. which really does not bother me at all. i have lived in other countries (d’uh!) so i know there is not a lot of media coverage on botswana at all, probably because it is very peaceful (read: boring) and has a very stable economy. not very interesting as far as world news is concerned.

ok, so like i said, it does not bother me AT ALL when someone has never heard of bots, i mean there are plenty of countries (i am sure) that i have never heard of.

but why, oh WHY do people who have already openly admitted they have never heard of my country, raise an eyebrow in skepitsism when i tell them something about the country due to soem weird pre-concieved notions that they have about the african continent or just their intelligence in general??? how does that make sense? like ”i’m sorry i have NO IDEA what you are talking about but you must be wrong!”

e.g.

him: where are you from?

me: botswana

him: never heard of it

me: ever heard of the kalahari desert? (actually called the kgalagadi)

him: (delighted) yes!

me: it is, in almost all its entirity in botswana, it takes up a third of the country.

him: (raises eyebrow skeptically), are you sure?

me: (a little outraged but calm)uhm…yeah, i am pretty sure.

him: (still skeptical) but i have heard of that desert plenty of times, wouldn’t i have heard of the country too?

me: (shrugs and walks away)

or;

her: where are you from?

me: botswana

her: i have never heard of it!

me: its in southern africa

her, oh! must be dangerous around there

me: actually, botswana is one of the safest countries in the world. it has never had a war or any real strife save a bit of drought and has one of the fastest growing economies in the world.

her: it must have had a war

me: nope

her: (raises eyebrow skeptically) but its in africa!

me: (shrugs and walks away)

ugh!

rant over. thanks guys, i feel better now…

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so, what i have noticed is that before we discovered that there was a term for this hodge-podge of culture and language and personality, most of us made up a name for ourselves that best suited. i have heard mutt, diplomat brats, military brats and more.

this post is just a fun list of what you called yourself and others (you hoped) were like you before the ruths blessed us with the 3ck title?

mine? diaspora babies

what’s yours?

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disclaimer: yes, i know, we don’t need any more boxes, this post is genrally for a laugh and a lark.

so i was telling a friend of mine about this whole tck thing. she is also tck haivng grown up in the states although she is originally from botswana like me. she was delighted with the idea and admitted that she’d been thinking a lot about her “difference” lately. she started listing all the things she had been thinking about, basically all the tck traits, so there i was on the other side of the phone (she was in shanghai at the time) going “yeah! yeah!” and then she said something to the effect of ” not being able to live somewhere where everything moves at snails pace, needing to be somewhere cosmopolitan!”

that’s when i stopped with the “yeahs”. after we got off the phone i started thinking about it, and the more i post and read posts and learn more about tcks, i realise that we are sort of divided into two groups; posh and bush. the great thing about being tck is that we can move between the two fluidly, but when our hearts cry for the familiar, it is usually one or the other of these two groups.

posh: usually grew up somewhere where it snows, in a big city. public transport is metro, buses that run on a schedule that can be found on the internet and cabs. the posh dress up to go out, they wear heels and shine their shoes. the men are often clean shaven and the women’s hair is styled. clubs and restaurants are what are considered a good night out. they are wine connoisseurs and consider some french bread, cheese and fruit a meal. life for the posh is often fast paced and organised, tardiness is considered rude to them.

bush: usually grew up somewhere where the sun shines 80% of the year. public transport is a kombi/matatu/mini bus type thingy or some contraption strapped to a bike that shows up wherever, whenever. the bush dress down, always. jeans (shorts) a tank top and flip flops are pretty much their uniform, if not then some sort of random cloth thing wrapped around the waist as a skirt (for the men too). the guys usually have full beards and the women often wear dangly earrings made from local flora. hanging out on the beach grilling fresh fish on an open fire is considered a good night out. they are beer connoisseurs and don’t consider anything a meal unless it has meat in it. the bush take a whole day off work if they have to deposit a cheque at the bank (because it is that slow) and understand that “on time” means at least an hour late.

i am a complete BUSHY, born and bred. i miss walking about barefoot, so much! (too much random glass here. not to mention all the SNOW!!)

what are you?

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so, i know there is a post somewhere about what i love about being tck but this is a bit different, this is more what i love about moving. i have been in mtl for 9 months now and the other day i was marveling over a couple of things, so here is my list on what i love about moving.

1. the giddyness i feel when i finally manage to get whatever i need to move to a new country. usually i am sick to death of whatever country i am in at that time and just that knowledge that i will be somewhere different soon, its so…i don’t know, i could get drunk on that.

2. arriving. when everything is brand spanking new. and everytime you meet some one and they ask how long you’ve been there and you say ’2 days’ or ’2 weeks’ and they marvel at what a newbie you are, and you marvel at yourself.

3. when you’ve been there long enough to give directions, understand basic language, recommend restaurants and not have to look at a map everytime you want to go soemwhere. i LOVE this part. that is where i am right now, i am still relatively new here, but i love that i have been here long enough to know where stuff is, switch easily from english to french (albeit broken french) and just generally feel that sense of belonging.

4. making new friends and hearing new stories. i recently met a guy who was on the canadian olympic fencing team and is now an actor (we are in a show together) i love stuff like that! and i must say montréal is particularly good for that because it is so genuinely international.

5. new slang and quirks. while i can’t say that i yell ‘tabernac!’ when i stub my toe, i have picked up a lot of franglais and general québecois gestures. also my english is already slanted towards the québecois side and i pepper my speech with ‘oui, ce ça’ and ‘pointe finale!’

well, that’s my 5 for now. i must say this is my favourite part. end of year one and year two, when its all still relatively new, but i’ve been here long enough so that its not painfully new and i feel like a part of the community.

i tell you, i ADORE moving (maybe not the physical act, but the consequence!) its so exciting and everythign is so new and wonderful. and then its like a challege, seeing how you can fit yourself into this particular community, or letting the community settle around you. its moments likethese that i thank Jah i am tck, because i swear, that whole living in once place forever thing? i don’t know how those monos do it…

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so i am in rehearsal for this play. its sort of an idea that this guy had and now he’s sort of half writing half workshopping it together, its pretty cool project. anyway, so the other day in rehearsal we play a game called ‘saying goodbye’.

basically the director builds this scenario of how you are getting up in the morning, late for work or an important meeting or something, when you suddenly remember a very very close friend or family member is getting on a ship and leaving that very day at that time and you will most likely never see them again. the person leaving is going somewhere for something fantastic.

the point of the excercise is to build up this sort of rush of conflicting emotions (happy for the person because they are going to do something they love, sad because they are leaving, angry because you didn’t get to hug them as the boat is pulling out when you get there). but as i got to the (imaginary) pier, where i was to wave goodbye to the person as they sailed away, i felt, well…not much.

when the director was explaining the game, i was thinking ‘uh-oh, guess who’s going to be the heartess wench who just waves, blows a kiss and then gets in her car and leaves?’ but then i decided not to preempt it and let myself get lost in the excercise. well, i was right, i felt a bit of sadness and such but nothing very hectic. everyone else were almost in tears, really emotional.

so after the game, we talked about it and i said that it may have been a bit lost on me. when i asked why, i explained. to me this makes sense; i have been moving about since i was 11 months old, i have left SO many people never to see them again, So many people have left me it has just become a norm, a part of my life. some say it s a coping mechnism, i think its because it’s all i know. who is to say i SHOULD be different just because society’s norms dictate that my heart should be ripped out eveytme someone leaves.

they didn’t get it. not at all. i was told i was probably avoiding my feelings, bottling them in. but its not like that. i may not get emotional when saying goodbye, i may not even miss people for like the first year i am gone, but i do eventually miss them. even if its in fits and starts. i remember them quite fondly and i do get sad that we can’t hang out. but its SO a part of my life, i mean i don’t know what else to say! its NOT a coping mechanism, its NOT me hiding my feelings, it is what it is.

anyway, i know not all tcks are like this, few in fact but i am. is there ANYONE else who may think (like me) that it is possible to be relatively emotionally healthy but just not all emo about goodbyes?

before i knew i was tck, i used to say it takes me a long time to ‘click’. meaning i could be in a place for about 2 years before the enormity of what i big move i made hits me. and then by then i already have friends, am familiar with the place etc. maybe it is a coping mechanism, but i just don’t like that term because it suggests that there is a better way to do it. like somehow crying at the airport will make me a more ‘normal’ more ‘whole’ human being. something i very much doubt.

anyway, this was more of a rant than anything.

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so i few weeks ago i started a post about how small the world is, you know, the stories of how while shopping duty free at gatwick, you bump into your kindergarten teacher from your time in abijan 20 years ago sort of thing. anyway, this story should go under that post, but i am not computer savvy enough (read: lazy) to find it, plus i want to find this woman, so i am calling out.

a few days ago, my fiancé, whom i love very much, left to go on tour in the states (check out jababliafrica.com for a concert near you (if you are in the states)) and as he often does, he looked for a rideshare on craigslist and on this facebok group for people who travel frequently between montréal and new york. anyway, he found one with this guy, and there was another girl also getting a ride from him, and my bf and her got to talking and she mentioned having lived all over and he said (my very clever fiancé) ‘oh, so you’re tck?’ and she was delighted he’d even heard of the term, and so he explained that his fiancée (moi) is tck. and went on to reccommend this site. well apparetnly she is already a member and had seen my name on the site.

so, i think its ally? my bf has the worst memory, but anyway, who rode with my man to ny? isn’t that a crazy, funny coincidence (there are NO coincidences!)? isn’t he just the cutest, nicest guy?

anyway, just thought it was a cool story…

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and a smiling friendship to everyone

there’s so much that we share

that its time we’re aware

its a small world after all

ok, i know there is a post like this in fb, but a lot of folks here i don’t know from the fb group and i LOVE hearing stories like this. these are the stories that prove the world is pretty tiny and make folks like me happy.

here are some of mine

my aeroplane boyfriend (shhh, don’t tell my fiance)

so basically i was in college on a flight from DC to JHB or is it JNB, i can’t keep it straight and there was this guy on the plane with me. whatever, we didn’t talk or anything. on the way back (a month later) i am chilling in the airport and there is this guy again, he comes up to me and says “we were on the flight a month ago together.” i take little notice and he walks away. i then feel bad because he was just trying to make a 24 hr flight more bareable with some conversation. so on the plane i go up and talk to him and immediately fall in love (my poor little 20 year old heart! plus he was HOT!) we arrive in DC, i catch my connecting flight to virginia.

fast-forward 3 years, i have graduated and am on tour in the states, i am in DC staying with a friend for a few weeks. i am doing my christmas shopping, i stop for a second on the side walk to light a cigarette, happen to glance to my left and there, in a car, is my aeroplane boyfriend. so we chat, exchange numbers, but he is leaving to mozambique (where he is from and where he was on his way to and from the last time we met) for a month and i am leaving to botswana, for good, a week after he comes back. needless to say, we miss each other.

fast forward another 2 years. i am working the shittiest job ever in bots as a manager of a cafe. these 2 guys come in and proceed to drink and dink and drink. i am leaving on holiday the next day to mozambique to visit a friend, after closing up, these 2 guys who refused to leave til i kicked them out, beg me for a ride to the nearest pub, they are UNVs who have just arrived, one is american one is german. having a soft spot for internationals and the UN i take them. they insist on buying me a drink, we get to talking i tell them i am going to mozambique the next day, the american guy goes, hey! i am half mozambiquan. then for the sake fo conversation (and because i like the sound of my own voice) i tell him the story of my mozambiquan aeroplane boyfriend. turns out, its his cousin!

more stories to follow, please let us know yours!

its a world of laughter a world of tears

its a world of hope and a world of fears,

though the oceans are wide

and the mountains are high
its a small world after aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall!!!!

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