http://allafrica.com/stories/201011160010.html

One of my objectives for this past year, and for this blog, was to highlight the positive stories about my time here.  There is just way too much negativity already written about Africa, the world really doesn’t need another blog to cast it further into darkness.  Besides, if I wrote about the positive stories, not only would I be helping Africa with its image problem, but maybe it would also help me to remain positive.  I have not  been the most prolific writer.  Over the past few months I found myself asking, “but what could I possibly write about without being negative?”  So I remained silent.

But for the time being, I’m happy.  I just want to set my sights ahead and forget about the last several months.  When the plane descended into Luanda over the miles of musseques (shanties) as far as the eye can see, I didn’t feel the usual pang of dread that accompanies my return to Luanda.  When I got log-jammed in traffic just seconds after leaving the airport, making it impossible to ignore the crowded sidewalk life and heaps of rubble and trash on the side of the dusty roads, I didn’t feel the world closing in on me like I have before.  As it turns out, 3 weeks is long enough to feel like I haven’t been here in a while.  To even….miss it.  I can’t afford to feel irritated by daily living — I don’t want to lose myself to negativity again.

A good book (and a flashlight for when it gets too dark to read), and I hardly notice the 1 hour commute it takes to go to/from work each day — all told probably only 2-3 miles away!  I’ve been back a week now and I’m keeping it simple — sticking to the things that make me happy, making light of possibly negative situations.

I think as my organization continues to wait through its transition, my honest smile and light-heartedness may be one of the few things that may uplift my colleagues’ spirits each day.  And for me, I just need to keep my eyes on the prize.

Yes, yes, we learned all about this in our cultural dimensions discussions at Thunderbird. African (and most Latin) cultures tend to be extremely hierarchical. Respect is given to seniority, and I, being the most junior person of the three, should respect the authority figures. Of course, this situation wasn’t exactly clear cut. In a hierarchical society, there would be no such thing as a brainstorming session (clearly an idea imported by the American manager). The Director would give detailed directions to his inferiors, who would then be expected to carry out the tasks without questioning authority or adding value to the process. The junior member certainly wouldn’t be part of the decision-making process or strategy setting. The truth is, my organization is implemented by American managers, using standard American management practices, and is employed by young, eager to learn Angolans. I think that most of the Angolan employees find it refreshing to be part of a collaborative environment where they are asked to be involved in coming up with ideas to improve the way we do things. So, you can imagine my surprise when after 9 months of freely participating in meetings and sharing my opinions among a flat organizational structure, I was told that I was being disrespectful to my manager by not giving him a chance to answer questions first — while brainstorming!

To fully appreciate the irony of this situation would involve knowing a little about where I’ve come from. I grew up in an extremely hierarchical family structure, so neither the ideas nor the practice are foreign to me. I was taught to be obedient, respect authority and speak only when spoken to; and I carried this with me throughout my schooling and into my first job. It was while working that I realized that the cultural norms I grew up with (my parents are both immigrants) differed greatly among my American peers who seemed much more at ease with authority. They asked for (and received) things I would never dream of asking. They asked insightful questions and voiced their opinions in meetings with managers 3 levels above them. I, on the other hand, sat quietly, took notes, and did my job…very well, I might add. Only speaking up when someone asked me what I thought. During most of my early career, all of my managers consistently gave me the same review: “You’re one of our best performers. You have great ideas and initiative. SPEAK UP!!”

It wasn’t really until business school that I truly got over my fear of voicing my opinion to authority figures. I would challenge myself to participate at least once in each class discussion. It was a little frightening at first to overcome whatever mental barrier I had put up, but after 2 years and countless case discussions, I emerged confident in my own abilities and opinions. I am proud of myself. I no longer am a passive, subservient little girl, but rather someone who offers up ideas, sizes up situations, and communicates an action plan without needing to wait to be asked.

So here I am in Angola, now being asked by authority to return to my old self, to a self I don’t think I can return to. In business school we learn that good international managers adapt their management styles to the cultural norms of their host country, careful not to inadvertently offend or disrespect the colleagues they are trying to lead and influence. So the big question is: In adapting to the hierarchical structure and being mindful not to disrespect my manager, am I actually undoing my own progress and disrespecting myself? That is something I simply cannot do.

[“She who doesn’t walk continuously in motion, doesn’t eat.”]

The streets of Luanda are filled with action and continuous motion – people moving about their day, children playing, dogs scavenging and zungueiras selling their wares.   In Luanda, the zungueiras are a part of the scenery; they are a part of everyone’s lives.  Zungueiras come from all the provinces, every part of Angola, to Luanda in order to make a better life.  When they get here, they often have to start from scratch – carrying a load on their heads in brightly colored buckets, usually with a small child strapped on their back.  This is the hardship of the zungueira.  They form the base of the informal market.

The zungueira sets up shop on a favorite street corner – a smattering of blues, greens and yellows selling sumptuously ripe mangoes, avocados, bananas, tomatoes, cilantro.  They call out to you, “moça, moça” and try to entice you with their wares.  But they never stay in one place for too long for that would harness complacency and the zungueiras are anything but complacent.  Day in and day out, rain or shine, the zungueira is walking the streets with a load on her head.  Is it kitchen bowls, shoes, school supplies you want?  A zungueira is selling it.  Fresh ice cream?  Yes, a zungueira will scoop some for you.

With zungueiras, you must buy right away if you see something you like.  They rarely bargain.  They all charge the same price anyways.  You don’t know if you will see the lady selling that amazing piece of African fabric tomorrow.  If you ask her if she will be there the next day, she will just answer yes, she will be somewhere in this vicinity.  Sometimes you can’t even count that they will be there in a few hours.  A favorite spot, under the shade of a building’s awning, might attract 10 different zungueiras to set up shop, but when you walk by again after lunch, only their scatterings remain.

Zunga derives from Kimbundu, a local Angolan language, meaning continuous motion.  It is no wonder then that these ladies who struggle for their existence should be dubbed zungueiras.  They are the true fighters of our times.  The true heroes who work tirelessly, thanklessly.

Today is International Women’s Day, a national holiday in Angola.  I would like to dedicate it to the zungueiras.

But for now, Angola is enjoying its moment.  Everyone is wearing Angola t-shirts, hats and scarves.  Angolan flags wave from every other car.  For the last game, the President declared a half-day of work so that everyone could make it to watch the game on time (it started at 5pm, but with Luanda traffic, people sat between 2-3 hours in their car to get to the stadium.)  Luckily, I decided to continue working till about 3pm and missed all of the traffic.

Angolans are so proud to be hosting this tournament.  It’s their debut to the world that Angola, one of the fastest growing economies in the world, has turned a new leaf and is enjoying the fruits of their natural resources.  Unfortunately, the world (at least the part of the world that is paying attention) is coming away with a different picture.  The games kicked off with a tragic incident in the northern region of Cabinda by a separatist group hungry for media attention.   The group misfired and instead of hitting the Angolan escorts they were aiming for, their gunfire fell on a bus carrying the entire Togo national football team.  Two men were fatally injured and Togo opted to return back home and not play in the games.  Here in Luanda, the city has been preparing for CAN since before I arrived.  New high-rise hotels built to accommodate the influx of tourists for the games have been popping up everywhere.   But there are no tourists and most of the hotels are still not finished.  Journalists and soccer teams were told they would be given visas upon arrival at the airport, but regular tourists still had to go through the normal process of applying for a visa – meaning theirs should be approved about a month or 2 after CAN is over.  It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, even most journalists can’t entirely afford to pay $400+/night to stay in a hotel in Luanda – the most expensive city in the world, especially those coming from other African countries.

As for me, this is all part of the experience.  And of course, I don’t want Ghana to spoil the party.  I will be heading out now to watch the game at a friend’s place.  Forca Palancas Negras!

I was going to devote this blog entry to how the guidebooks had it all wrong. But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I realize that the “average” tourist may find the conditions unfit for their traveling tastes (note the distinction between traveler and tourist). Surely, they would all come back to their home country with stories of the wild and crazy adventures and near-death experiences in Angola. And they would be right of course. There are the inconveniences (sections of unpaved, pot-holed roads; few bathrooms, hotels or restaurants on the way) and the real dangers (landmines, high rate of car accidents, car trouble – you know, like wheels coming off, electrical fires under the hood, 4x4s sliding down an embankment). That’s what makes traveling in Angola that much more exciting. You just never know what’s going to happen. I have the benefit of traveling with people who know the land and who travel prepared (fire extinguishers, tow ropes, first-aid kits, etc.). They know where to go, and more importantly, where not to go.

Angola has a lot to offer in terms of untouched, breathtaking, natural beauty. What is even more wonderful about them is that there aren’t ANY signs of tourism. When traveling in Angola, you truly are at your own risk. But with any risk, the prepared know how to hedge their bets and enjoy great rewards.

Below are a few pictures from various places around Angola.  And lastly, I am posting a new link to my blog page on Luanda night life (on the sidebar to the right). There are lots of great pictures of bars and restaurants for those who are interested in seeing a few pictures of Luanda.

(The Leba Pass – the road between Lubango and Namibe;  Arco – an oais in the middle of the Namibe desert; Cristo Rei overlooking the city of Lubango; and, Tundavala)

This year I decided to stay in Angola for the holidays. It was the first time I’ve been away from my family during Christmastime. Spending Christmas in the Southern Hemisphere, where December is hot and balmy, makes you forget that the holiday season is upon us. There are no boughs of holly, no winter wonderland, no impressive window displays and this year my good cheer was replaced with hitting the “3 month wall.”

As many expats will testify, the phenomenon referred to as “culture shock” sometimes gets the best of us. Culture shock is technically defined as “anxiety and feelings of surprise, disorientation, uncertainty and confusion felt when operating in a different and unknown cultural or social environment.” It is brought on by not being familiar with local customs and norms, not understanding the local language and possibly not enjoying the local cuisine. When someone (my boss) first mentioned that I was going through culture shock, my first thought was that he was sorely mistaken. I love learning about and experiencing aspects of different cultures. I’ve lived abroad in a culture that to me felt more foreign than the culture in Angola. I’m a T-bird, for goodness’ sake! But, perhaps there may be some merit to this argument. The “honeymoon period” is over (see diagram below), and I am now dealing with adjusting to the realities of daily life. In truth, the smallest things build up and something as silly as my car service screwing up once again or frustrating as another week at the office where work doesn’t get done because the Internet only works for 1 ½ hours a day all compound on top of each other. I have had my share of screw-ups as well. I have offended co-workers by not greeting each one personally in the morning, followed by an inquiry of how their weekend or night was. A blanket “Bom dia colegas” at 7:30am before I’ve had the chance to drink my morning coffee and wake up is very American of me, and therefore……rude. The same is true of not personally saying good-bye and giving beijinhos (2 kisses on the cheek) to each and every person in a group before leaving. I’m learning through my mistakes. It only takes 1 time for someone to point out my mistake for me not to do it again. I’m sure there are many more things I’ve done or will do that seem perfectly normal to me, but will be viewed as offensive to others.

But what has taken the biggest toll on me is the separation from people who know me and know what is important to me – my friends and family, my support network. Of course it takes time to form real friendships in any new place. And of course, I know that I will make friends here. The truth is that as independent and adventurous as I may be, I need strong friendships and relationships to support me. This has always been true – whether in Angola or the US.

This year may not have felt like Christmas, but it wasn’t the lack of decked-out Christmas trees or “Santa Baby” blaring from the loud-speakers that were missing. I truly missed not being with my family and partaking in family traditions. It didn’t help that my 3-month honeymoon period expired right before the holidays. I don’t want anyone out there to feel sorry for me (apparently, people really do read my blogs!!). While my Christmas Eve left much to be desired for, I had a very, very nice Christmas Day with friends in Luanda. There was a warm glow coming from the Christmas tree lights and a feeling that we are all in this together.

A blog entry has been long overdue. I apologize. This is a bit late.

Thanksgiving is the time of year when Americans gather around family and loved ones to celebrate and give thanks for all the blessings in our lives. We also watch (American) football and stuff our faces with turkey all day long. This year I indulged in not one, but two, bountiful turkey dinners with the people who will be my family for the coming year. And yes, both times I ended the evening in a sleep-inducing food coma. This year, like most years, I am thankful for the friends in my life who are always with me no matter the distance, for the doors that have opened to cut a clear path for me, and for the willingness to go through those doors and trust that the Lord will be with me every step of the way.

Many of you reading this blog don’t know much about Angola. I wouldn’t say that I do either, nor can what follows do justice to Angola’s past. But, it is important to have an idea of the events of the past in order to understand the context of some of the observations I may write. As a Portuguese colony, I’ve heard it said that Angola was prosperous. In addition to its vast natural resources of oil, diamonds and precious metals, it also was a big exporter of coffee and had a very active and abundant agricultural sector. Shortly after independence from Portugal in the mid-70s, Angola broke out into a nasty civil war that would last close to 30 years. The MPLA, the party in power, already had a strong following on the coast and believed that they needed to capture the central region of Angola to set up their base, hence making it easier to extend their reach into the eastern and northern provinces of Angola. For this reason, most of the fighting occurred in the central provinces in land that was traditionally fertile and agriculturally productive. Many people (if not most) left their farms and their livelihoods to seek safety in the coastal regions. I believe something like 80% of Angola’s population lives on the coast; the rest of the country is sparsely populated. Even though there has been peace for the last 7-8 years, people have not returned back to their homes in the country-side. There are opportunities in cities like Luanda that don’t exist if they were to go back home. Opportunities for education, health care, and of course, jobs.

Even though Angola is no longer a Portuguese colony, its reach will continue to permeate the culture in Angola for years to come. The Portuguese colonized countries to be used as stopping posts along their trade route to the Far East. And so you have Angola, a land of Portuguese-speakers, surrounded by French- and English-speaking countries. When Angolans travel, their most popular destinations are Portugal, Brazil and South Africa. And also Namibia which is supposed to be wicked cheap. The point being that the cultural connection with the “old world” is still strong. The language barrier between Angola and its surrounding countries will continue to keep Angola separate and distinct; and it will continue to be mysterious to the outside world. As I have mentioned in a previous blog post, Angolan music and dance are both influenced by and are an influencing force for Portuguese and Brazilian music and dance. This weekend I went to a bar on the Ilha that had live music from Cabo Verde (also a Portuguese colony) – it was lovely! Brazilian flags are seen everywhere and capoeira is widely practiced. All of this and more is what prompted one of my friends to reply that Angola is not “real Africa”, but rather a “Little Brazil”.

The more I find out about other expats here, the more I realize what an amazing opportunity it is for me to even be here! Angola is extremely transient and not always necessarily by choice. It is particularly difficult to get a work or tourist visa to get into Angola, as anyone who has tried can tell you. The average stay is around 1 year. It is just as hard and frustrating to get a work visa renewed as it is to get one the first time around. Apparently special consideration is given to people working at NGOs – we get a 1 year visa. Everyone else’s work visa permits them to stay in Angola for up to a year, but they must leave the country every 3 months. In the last month, several business trips have been postponed due to visa delays. Some of these business visitors were trying to come to Angola to explore potential partnerships and opportunities to do business here. I’ve also already known several people who will be leaving us soon due to either visa issues or their job being transitioned to an Angolan (not exactly a bad thing, but still sad for me all the same). I actually wouldn’t mind staying longer, given the right circumstances.

It is not only difficult for people to get into Angola, but also goods, including (gasp!) gasoline. Sonangol, the state-owned oil company, has long lines at the pump all of the time and it is not uncommon for them to run entirely out of gas. Ironic? Why yes. Yes, it is. While Angola is Africa’s largest exporter of oil, it doesn’t yet have any refineries to make the oil usable to put into your car. It currently imports more oil each year than it exports. Luckily, there are plans to build a refinery which would, at the very least, cut out the costs of importing its domestic oil usage. Hopefully, it will also have the production capacity to refine enough oil for export. Thus, minimizing the effects of Angola’s declining terms of trade. (According to “dependency theory,” exporters of raw materials will always remain underdeveloped and dependent on exporters of finished goods.) As for other goods, due to Angola’s barren farmlands and years of non-investment to diversify from the oil industry, it must import just about EVERYTHING. Once again, the main importers of goods into Angola (from my observations) seem to be Portugal, Brazil and South Africa, with a Mozambican product thrown in every once in a while for good measure. These goods can sit on cargo ships outside of the main ports for up to 4-6 weeks before they are let in to the country. Apparently, residents of Luanda stockpile certain items if they see them at the grocery store. I have yet to learn which items are to be considered a treat and which ones I can consider staples, but I’m learning. I’ve already tried to look for certain items I bought in the previous weeks only to be disappointed by an empty shelf. Which all ties back to Thanksgiving. This year our hosts were assured to please their guests with a traditional turkey dinner with all the trimmings because they ordered their groceries directly from South Africa. The second, potluck-style Thanksgiving wasn’t too shabby either, so thumbs up to Angola for being able to comply with even the most demanding of palates.

Angola is an interesting place. You can’t really expect everything to work all of the time. Heck, my entire cell phone network was out all day yesterday, rendering me a prisoner in my own apartment – couldn’t call a car service. But for now, the novelty has not worn off, and I am truly thankful for each passing day in this country that is so separated from the outside world.

As I learned in one of the numerous personality tests in business school, I am a “Reflector.”  This means that when presented with a new situation or idea, I tend to absorb/soak in information; my brain needs to process this new information for me to come up with a well-thought out argument.  After 2 weeks of soaking in new information, my brain started working in overdrive today spitting out new thoughts in a thousand different directions.  I wanted to find the off button, but I settled for calling my car to pick me up at 4pm and in effect cancelling all my plans for the rest of the evening to give me time to “organize”.

Since arriving I can say I have experienced some of the hype.  It took me close to 2 hours to get to the gym twice last week, coming home sweaty one of the nights only  to find that the water was out.  But, in general it only takes 30 minutes to get from place to place and the water comes back on after an hour or so.  If I pretend that Luanda is a lot bigger than it is and that the distance traveled is greater, then really, 30 minutes isn’t an unreasonable daily commute.  It’s just those 2 hour days that kill ya!  Sometimes I have to give myself pep talks to calm down a wave of irritation; luckily, they never last that long.   Shopping in the grocery stores also isn’t as expensive as I had heard.  I was told an average weekly shopping bill was around $200.  It will probably take me 3 weeks to hit that amount.   My friends and I did grab lunch before grocery shopping at the food court in the mall where there is a Shop-Rite.  Typical food court Chinese food: $35.  I will be eating a lot of ham & cheese sandwiches.

My apartment in Cassenda (neighborhood in Luanda) is nice enough.  Sure, it’s not luxury, but it’s much better than I had envisioned.  I haven’t noticed any power outages since we’ve been here, but the water does seem to come and go at sporadic moments.  Good thing I’m used to the bucket bath!!!  I like my roomies/colleagues/only 2 friends in Angola.  However, after spending about 24/7 with the same 2 people for 8 weeks, I think we all are in need of some time spent apart, or at least to meet some new people.  And that we have!  Last weekend, we went on a beach camping trip to a pristine U-shaped beach 1 ½ hours outside of Luanda.  It was a fun trip organized by Kelse, a cool Angolan guy who knows just about everybody in Luanda, and 30 of his closest friends – a mix of locals and expats from all over (US, UK, Belgium, Brazil, Netherlands).   Since that trip, we’ve received an invitation to some sort of event almost every night of the week!  There has been no want of social activities.  I definitely plan to partake in this fun group of expats working at embassies, NGOs and the oil companies.   But I also want to make it a priority to improve my Portuguese and I need Portuguese-only speaking friends to do that.  I need to find THAT group who is going to welcome me with open arms into their already established social network.  Hmmm….

And lastly, a word about starting work.  I’ll be writing a lot more later about my work at CAE and the role they play in developing the local Angolan economy.  But for now, the biggest take-away from the past 2 weeks was how hard it was to “work” after what amounted to a 6-month hiatus from having any deliverables due or real responsibility to speak of.  The first week was spent putting together strategy presentations for each of the functional areas at CAE while also trying to understand our individual responsibilities and get to know the consultants.  We had a very important visitor from CDS, CAE’s project implementer based out of Washington, DC, all of last week.  Each area was responsible for presenting our processes and priorities through the end of CAE’s contract.  It was definitely a great way to learn not only what CAE does, but why they do things a certain way.  Plus, we got to work right away with the team to pinpoint areas for improvement.  Needless to say, we got a crash course in all of the different areas we can add value and the projects we can spearhead.  There’s a lot of work to be done and I’m excited to get started!

Thursday, October 29th:

Last week marked the end of Portuguese language training and the end of my stay in Benguela. It also ended a glorious 6-month run of not having any deliverables due, whether for school or work (and somehow still managing to get paid for half that time). Before I move on and talk about my new city and my new job, I wanted to give a proper goodbye to the town that welcomed me to Angola. What follows are random thoughts and ramblings from my time in Benguela.

About half-way through my stay, Nancy’s English School moved me to a new family. My first one was a bit too silent for a true Portuguese language immersion experience. I watched a lot of Brazilian novelas on TV with that family. These novelas came on 6 nights a week, so they really gave me a chance to improve my Portuguese apprehension skills The cable is currently out in my Luanda apartment and I am just dying to know what happened on “Viver a Vida.” I would eat dinner at the table by myself, while my 2 nephews were allowed to eat only AFTER I finished. The bathroom in my old house didn’t have running water in the bathroom (just a drip coming from the faucet), so I learned quickly how to make the most of different sized buckets to take a “shower.” When Nancy first told me she was looking for a new family for me, I felt a tad bit guilty for moving out just because they were quiet and reserved. Aren’t I also on the quiet side, after all?? Everyone in that house had been nothing but kind to me – well, except for one of the brothers who always seemed a bit annoyed at my very presence for no apparent reason. I was immediately happier and carefree as soon as I was freed from that house. I can’t explain it, but it was like an oppressive weight was lifted from my shoulders.

My new family was the polar opposite. They were a boisterous, rambunctious, slightly irreverent crew – and they immediately welcomed me into their family as one of their daughters and made me feel at home. The head mama, a woman in her mid-50s by the name of Lolita, is a lifelong party girl. During one of our first conversations she told/asked me: “I like beer. Do you like beer? ‘Cuz I LOVE beer!” (or the equivalent in Portuguese). Soon afterwards a cold Heineken was placed in front of me. Oh yeah, my experience in Benguela was about to get lively. My new house had a hot shower, was next door to a padaria bringing the warm wafty smells of fresh bread and rolls to our outdoor breakfast area, and best of all was a 5 minute walk to Nancy’s English School. Lolita and her boyfriend invited me to karaoke one night and as I had heard about how karaoke was held in a large outdoor amphitheater, I decided it would be fun to join and check out this phenomenon. We started off the night at 10pm with a pre-dinner drink at a laid-back yet happening Portuguese bar. We recruited a few of Lolita’s friends to join us for dinner. We entered what appeared to be a very casual restaurant (like a lunch spot) and went through a door at the back of the restaurant with a sign stating that we were now entering the First Class section. Inside, the room was decorated in old-world Portuguese architecture, jugs, etc. I spent the next 2 hours eating “choco” (grilled squid) and having pleasant conversation with a guy from Portugal who was in Angola for the week. Our karaoke adventure began shortly after midnight. Lolita ran into more friends and after several alcoholic beverages, they all started dancing to the …… music? Most of the songs seemed to be traditional Portuguese ballads, although the occasional “We Are the World” would be snuck in to the mix. Angolans love Michael Jackson and hearing them sing in English is worth the price of admission! I decided to call it a night at 3am, while Lolita and her possee of 50-somethings put me to shame by continuing on to a night club. As I would learn, it is custom for Lolita to stay out till noon of the next day. Angolans know how to party!

My Portuguese improved greatly over the course of 5 weeks – or so I was told. I think it is customary in African tradition to be complimentary or at least tell people what they want to hear. Most Angolans I meet tell me that I speak Portuguese very well, and for a while, I started to believe them. Then one day I gave a presentation to a group of Angolan students. During the presentation, several voluntarily complimented me on how well I spoke Portuguese. Something must have happened somewhere towards the end. They were asked to grade my speaking and comprehension abilities. One by one, they mercilessly gave me a grade of either 30% or 45%. So, there you have it folks, I’m at 30%-45% Portuguese speaking capacity!

And I will leave you with a story: One day during class, I came across a word I didn’t know. Arrendar. It means to lease or to rent. My professor was trying to explain to me what it meant and ended up using “Rent-A-Car” (in English) as an example. He turns to me and asks, “Do you have this expression in English? Rent-A-Car?” I said of course, that we did. He didn’t seem to think I quite understood him, so I began explaining the process of renting a car. After he was sufficiently satisfied that perhaps we had this phrase in the US, he said, “Ahh yes, this is a universal phrase. It’s Latin.”