Perspective
You never really appreciate a bed until you go without one.
You never really appreciate a kitchen until you can't use one.
Why is it always the absence of something that makes you realize its value to you?
For over a week now I've lived out of my duffel bag and suitcase, and slept on the living room floor next to my best friend. We don't eat regular meals - instead, we buy food whenever we can afford or find it. The kitchen is miniscule, with an even tinier sink and tinier fridge.
We wake up early every morning, usually before 6am. There's one bathroom, with a bathtub and another tiny sink, and we take turns bathing before we get dressed in the bedroom.
It wouldn't matter if I had Queen Latifah's entire closet contents or Jamie Oliver's entire pantry in my kitchen - we have neither the space nor the time to do anything with either. Tshephi and I work, Abbey goes to school (usually - now he's on Christmas break), and when we finally stagger home after dark, we usually crash in front of the TV.
I don't use 80% of what I originally brought with me to Botswana. My outfits rotated among the same few dresses, for the most part, and all I really need for personal hygiene is a toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, and soap...
Last night Abbey and Tshephi's mom came over with their cousin, and we all shared the tiny house. Tshephi and mom shared the only bed, Abbey and I were on the floor again, and the cousin - an adorable little boy - slept on the tiny couch next to us.
...I don't ay rent anymore, but I have lent P400 to both Tshephi and Abbey on separate occasions. I also buy the bulk of the food we consume. At first I bristled at what felt like I was being taken advantage of, but I'm beginning to put it into context.
I think I'm actually living below the poverty line, yet I don't feel poor. On our way to work today, Tshephi and I fantasized about the house we want to rent next year. She thinks that we'll be able to move out of Gaborone after January; she wants to move to Kumakwane. Out there, she says, we could rent a bigger house for the same amount that we're renting the bachelor's quarters that we're in now.
We dreamed that we would live in a house where each of us would have our own bedroom, where we would have space for a rose garden, and have a large braai stand so that we wouldn't have to borrow from the neighbors. She and I became legitimately excited about a kitchen big enough for two people to comfortably stand in.
It really is about perspective, I'm learning. I'm so grateful for my pillow and blanket - doesn't matter that I whined about my bed being too small a year ago. I'm just fine now, I realize.
You never really appreciate a kitchen until you can't use one.
Why is it always the absence of something that makes you realize its value to you?
For over a week now I've lived out of my duffel bag and suitcase, and slept on the living room floor next to my best friend. We don't eat regular meals - instead, we buy food whenever we can afford or find it. The kitchen is miniscule, with an even tinier sink and tinier fridge.
We wake up early every morning, usually before 6am. There's one bathroom, with a bathtub and another tiny sink, and we take turns bathing before we get dressed in the bedroom.
It wouldn't matter if I had Queen Latifah's entire closet contents or Jamie Oliver's entire pantry in my kitchen - we have neither the space nor the time to do anything with either. Tshephi and I work, Abbey goes to school (usually - now he's on Christmas break), and when we finally stagger home after dark, we usually crash in front of the TV.
I don't use 80% of what I originally brought with me to Botswana. My outfits rotated among the same few dresses, for the most part, and all I really need for personal hygiene is a toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, and soap...
Last night Abbey and Tshephi's mom came over with their cousin, and we all shared the tiny house. Tshephi and mom shared the only bed, Abbey and I were on the floor again, and the cousin - an adorable little boy - slept on the tiny couch next to us.
...I don't ay rent anymore, but I have lent P400 to both Tshephi and Abbey on separate occasions. I also buy the bulk of the food we consume. At first I bristled at what felt like I was being taken advantage of, but I'm beginning to put it into context.
I think I'm actually living below the poverty line, yet I don't feel poor. On our way to work today, Tshephi and I fantasized about the house we want to rent next year. She thinks that we'll be able to move out of Gaborone after January; she wants to move to Kumakwane. Out there, she says, we could rent a bigger house for the same amount that we're renting the bachelor's quarters that we're in now.
We dreamed that we would live in a house where each of us would have our own bedroom, where we would have space for a rose garden, and have a large braai stand so that we wouldn't have to borrow from the neighbors. She and I became legitimately excited about a kitchen big enough for two people to comfortably stand in.
It really is about perspective, I'm learning. I'm so grateful for my pillow and blanket - doesn't matter that I whined about my bed being too small a year ago. I'm just fine now, I realize.