We stopped at the Tropic of Capricorn on the way back from Serowe. Serowe is a small town in Botswana, and I traveled with a group to visit the hospital’s vision center there and learn about the process of eyeglass making. The Tropic of Capricorn is a latitude in the Southern Hemisphere, and it traces the southernmost circle on Earth where the sun’s rays can hit from directly overhead (any further south, they always hit at an angle). The northern equivalent is the Tropic of Cancer.
A Capricorn myself, though not a big astrology person, I was pretty excited to be there. It’s marked by a simple street sign and a small monument – a rock with a vertical metal rod on top. Every year, at 12:12pm on the winter solstice (December 22; summer in this hemisphere), the sun shines directly down onto the rod. The light beams straight through the hollow rod and onto the rock, creating no shadow. Since we weren’t there at the solstice, of course, the rod cast a shadow.
That morning, we had visited the Vision Centre, an area of the eye health ward in Serowe’s hospital. Equipped and funded by a British charity organization, the Vision Centre includes all the facilities necessary for cutting glass lenses to make custom eyeglasses. That’s where we met Michael, a technician who makes 10-15 pairs of glasses a day. He walked us through the process of cutting a lens, showing us the 5 or so machines involved.
In Serowe, and every time I’ve been somewhere new, we did multiple rounds of introductions and hellos. Every day, I think about how important social norms are in Botswana. I think I’ve touched on this before – there is a well-established code of social interaction here, something like that small-town friendliness in suburban America. It’s at the same time my favorite and least favorite thing about Botswana. Everyone says hello (dumelang!) to each other on the street, even strangers, often continuing to ask “How are you?” and the like. It’s considered very rude to begin any interaction, even if you’re just purchasing stamps at the post office, without these pleasantries. I think it’s lovely, and in a capital as small as Gaborone, it’s important to be kind to people when you might be speaking to your brother’s neighbor or your friend’s mother. As a result, the Batswana seem far more socially adept than many people I know.
At the same time, it drives me crazy. It slows things down. No one is ever in a hurry – to appear so would be rude. I grew up in Manhattan, where I perfected the style of speed-walking that signals “don’t talk to me.” It’s also a safety thing. Every time a random man or cab driver or stall owner calls “Hello” to me on the street, I’m conflicted between respecting Batswana culture and wanting to ignore it, as I’ve been trained to ignore any attention from random male passers-by. Usually I respond with a curt “Hello” in return and promptly ignore any ensuing conversation. On longer walks, I listen to podcasts or music, and hope that the earbuds serve as a defense against being rude – I smile at the people around me while conveniently being unable to hear them.
Anyway, I’m off to Victoria Falls tomorrow, which I’m excited for since it’s considered one of the 7 natural wonders of the world. I’m hesitant as well because it will be a very touristy weekend, outside of Botswana, with other American travelers – none of that is very Watson-y. But it’s only a two-day trip, and I missed the opportunity once before (I could have gone when I was studying abroad in South Africa for 5 months), so I didn’t want to miss it again. I’m also feeling quite good about my project here. I’ve met with a few different groups by now, and a couple days ago I met with the only local medical device start-up in Botswana, so that was great. Plus, it’s been too long since I’ve taken a flight! (well, a couple months).