Testing my Theories: Expat Dos and Don'ts

To supplement this blog, I began to create a survival guide specifically designed for Expatriates new to an area. To verify the practicality of my survival guide, I’ve spent the first few weeks in Nairobi testing my theories . . . on myself. Like Bruce Banner. Imagine a super travel savvy Hulk, only chartreuse and wearing obscene amounts of recently purchased jewelry, and that’s pretty much me now. Hulk Smash.

The draft guide + Nairobi edition is as follows (with photos of pretty flowers because I have a surplus):

DO learn to cuss immediately

Still so critical. Even if you’re doing it in English. The effect is nearly immediate. Although I would like to add a caveat – It has occurred to me that not every uncomfortable situation warrants that you haul off and get all salty mouthed. For example when you’re getting harassed by street kids. It’s annoying and vaguely depressing, but would probably cause you more problems if you gave the eleven year old a solid bollocking on the street corner.

An incredibly aloof attitude can be nearly as effective in cutting down on day-to-day bull shit. I am certainly not doing the “Arrogant American” stereotype any favors, and sticking with a polite default has its advantages (more later). But here’s the thing: when you’re a stranger in a new place, fumbling around with unfamiliar language, currency, exchange rates, customs, there will be moments when you start to loose your nerve. And in all likelihood, whoever you’re bartering with is counting on that.

So in naturally high impact settings (souq, market, flea markets . . . ) where everyone, and I mean absolutely everyone, is trying to trying to take you for a ride, the aloof attitude is effective. If you find bartering daunting, keep your mouth shut until you find something you like. Figure out how much you are actually willing to pay for it. Knock a third off in your head. Then open your mouth.

Another helpful tactic is asking people to repeat themselves. Most of the time they’re on autopilot. They give you the same pitch, the same prices, the same song and dance about “How they wouldn’t even give that price to their own daughter!” blah blah blah blah blah they’ve given at least thirty seven times that day. And as rapid fire as humanly possible because any small business owner will tell you, it’s all about volume. So you say:

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that? How much?” With the slightest facial expression of annoyed incredulity. And suddenly they’re interacting with a person. Not just another wallet with a face.

OOH! And if you’re feeling adventurous the barter markets are a fabulous place to try on an alter ego. So far I’ve been Colombian, British and most recently a nun . . . THAT is an entertaining way to spend an afternoon. I’ll have a list of the best fake personas by the time I return . . . Currently I am playing around with pretending to be PAINFULLY stupid. So far reactions range from patiently sweet to violently annoyed. Hulk Smash

DO NOT drink like the locals

Still true. Also be aware that while there are acceptable behavior norms everywhere, there are also acceptable drunken behavior norms everywhere.   And they vary.

 

DO take a hard line on your smoking habits

Um, Bonus – Nairobi is comparably a fairly smoke free town. Pretty cool. Been here over three weeks. None beyond the sheesha, which smells fantastic anyway. Might be an anomaly, but booya.

DO NOT take the American stereotype personally

&

DO keep your patriotism under control

Ah, man. So so so so so still the deal. Some of the propagandist newspapers    are hilarious. While Americans might be responsible for a ton of crap, you        can’t quite peg us with ALL the crap in the world. But really it’s the day-to-day comments that are the most hilarious:

-       “Americans are ALL monsters . . . Oh, but you’re ok.”

-        “Thank God we were colonized by the British and not the Americans. At least they were civilized.”

-       “American girl, huh? How long do you like to kiss for . . . ?” smirky smirk          smirk. And vomit IN my mouth.

-       “Well, what do you expect? No offense, but all Americans are ignorant and judgmental hicks.”

To which I said “Oh, no offense? Sure! None taken. It is a pretty big place though. Have you ever been to the states? Really, never?! Golly, you must be extra-not ignorant to have such commanding knowledge. I’d like to know very much how you manage to be so wise, humble and not at all like a complete asshole simultaneously.” Hulk Smash, bro.

You see class, on that last one, I failed to heed my own advice. But that was    what I chose to do INSTEAD of reaching across the table and smacking him            upside the head and throwing my Portuguese soup in his face for good          measure. Most insufferable dinner companion of my life.

                       

DO, at your first opportunity, embarrass yourself wholly

Have done. Embarrassed myself in the cab, at the Masai Market, in the           animal park, at Mercury Lounge, at work. . . really no shortage of opportunities. This “To Do” may better be revised to “DO NOT be too hard on yourself when you DO embarrass yourself wholly.”

DO say yes to (almost) everything you’re invited to

THIS is ABSOLUTELY still the truth. Took me two incredibly boring weeks of suffering through team dinners and lone star status weekends. Then one random jewelry store meet-cute later and I actually have a social agenda.

Although timing is important. After about 10 days of pretty much working and living solo, I was talking to myself. More than just the reasonable amount. So if you, hypothetically, find yourself alone, talking nonsense to       yourself and have to really think about how long you’ve been doing it? And then realize you’re still narrating your thought process ABOUT talking to yourself aloud? It’s time to get out the damn house and make a friend.

Hypothetically, of course.

Additions:

DO make friends with the people who protect you

At the house in Nairobi the security situation is such that there are two guards and a dog at all times. Between the house and the rest of the world are three gated and guarded checkpoints. This is an EXTREME example because the security risk in this country is quite high right now.

But the list of people who are protecting me is not limited to the obvious security guards and Garissa, my awesome german shepherd night watch beast. Also on the list are the drivers at work because they get me to and from work safely whilst also parting good solid useable advice about the city. And they are not directly taking my money, so I trust them implicitly.

In addition, my safety is protected by the cab drivers. Some cab companies are vetted by the UN, NGOs, Embassies . . . etc. and have exclusive contracts. We have such a contract so I go out of my way to be nice to all the drivers. And after two weeks they’d all memorized my home address, the quickest routes there and answer my calls by name. I am at the MOST risk when I’m in their care, so this is great.

Of all the security risks in this city, the most likely scenario to befall me will be late at night on the ride back home. We will come to one of the neighborhood blockades. The guard who is responsible for opening the gate will “conveniently” be absent, trapping us there while his buddies rob us and steal the car. BUT if the cab company likes me enough (as I think they do), they call the gate security ahead of time and make sure they’re on point. And if not, we simply find a different route home.

 

Side bar – I left my cell phone in one of the cabs last weekend. I called the cab company the next day and they had SAVED it. So it changed hands with least        4 people who could have kept it, sold it and told me I was SOL. But instead one of the drivers took a special trip to the office to hand me the phone. I don’t even think Radio Cab in Portland would have been that good.  

Anyway, the long and short of it is, unless you’re bartering, be super nice. To everyone. In spite of your comfort level. It helps a lot more than it hurts. I am     fully aware that I overpay for cab rides because I’m white and a foreigner. I pay the Mizungu Tax. But if a couple extra bucks on cab rides means I have an   added layer of protection in Nairobi at 3 AM, I’ll take it.

DO NOT pay bribes

            Or rather, remember it really is a choice.

This has been one of my favorite lessons to learn. Bribery has been pretty common place on this trip, especially among the police.

It is part of the culture, but doesn’t have to be universally accepted. In Zimbabwe we had fair warning that the police WILL stop you and WILL try to force you into paying out. And if they can’t find a good excuse, they’ll just hold your passport hostage until you fork out a $50.

And before you dig your heels in, you do have to take into account that their boss came to them that morning and said “I want $300 on my desk by COB or you’re fired.” So one really does have to come to a personal conclusion. Am I willing to play the game to avoid the hassle? Or not?

Personally I feel like police/political/government corruption is such a nasty beast that absolutely infiltrates an entire society and is enabled by the standards of just a few people. And it pisses me off to no end. And I won’t be apart of it if I can avoid it and still keep my limbs. Although that means putting in a fair amount of research into what you can and can’t get away with.

 

So when the police officer stopped us one night and sauntered up to our car with a giant smile on his face and asked for our identification, we told him we’d left it at home, like we’d been instructed. If he’d been stopping us for any good reason, he may have given us a lecture about always carrying our identification with us. In which case, I may have presented it. But, as it turned out, he wasn’t really interested if he couldn’t leverage some cash out of us. So he sent us on our way.

In Nairobi it’s a bit harrier. We got waved down at a police blockade on our way out of town last weekend. I was in a car full of seasoned Nairobi residents and UN employees so I mostly just sat back and enjoyed the show.

First the officer wanted to know where we were going. When we asked why we’d been stopped, she said she hadn’t even been waving us down. Then why keep us there, you may be asking? I’ll give you one guess.

She asked my friend, who was driving, for his license. When he presented his UK license and not an international license, she tried to give us a line about how that was illegal. Which it is if you’ve been living here for more than 3 months. Which everyone in the car knew. Sorry, no dice lady.

Next was insurance forms. But, unfortunately for her, everything was up to date and compliant. Strike TWO!

Then she tried to give us a song and dance about how you absolutely have to have emergency “life savers.” Reflectors to put behind your car if you break down. Absolute BS, but she was getting frustrated so she was adamant. But alas! We were in a rental car! So legally it isn’t our responsibility. BAZINGA!

She sighed, put her hands on her hips and said “Well, now WHAT are we going to do?”

This is the part where she was hoping we would opt for a bribe. Sorry madam police officer. You THOUGHT you’d pulled over a car full of bumpkins on holiday. But instead you got 3 people not interested in taking your shit, and one clueless observer (moi).

We said we’d swing through a gas station and buy the stupid “life savers” and go about our damn day after mentioning offhand that the car was full of local UN employees. HULK SMASH

And so it happened that we left her there, frustrated and disappointed. And I learned you don’t HAVE to pay the bribe. This probably isn’t true everywhere, I should mention. Some of the stories I’ve heard from Mexico alone are absolutely terrifying. Pick your battles. If they’re threatening to take someone into “custody,” whatever that might mean, I would pay the bribe. But it is a choice. And so far, to my happy surprise, right and wrong translates.

            This ends version two of my Expat Dos and Don’ts. And I leave you with this photo.

This was early afternoon on the edge of the Great Rift Valley. Could be morning at the Oregon coast, right? But with goats, cattle, bad drivers overtaking in the oncoming lane, Highway pedestrians.

Terrifying fog to drive through. Spooky beautiful though.