Sunday, 12 October 1986: Extolling the Ex-Pat Lifestyle

Gaborone, Botswana

Look, it’s not that life here in Botswana is all that exciting, but there is something indescribable about living abroad.  It’s like my friend, Karen Collins from Lewistown, Montana, said recently when she was driving me back from a Monday night Hash House Harriers run out in the bush:  “People back in the States have no appreciation for the challenges of just getting by here like having to deal with getting stopped three times in one night by army roadblocks.”  Yes, the average American would be totally freaked out or pissed off by the automatic-rifle-toting Botswana Defense Force soldiers who had just stopped us and asked us to open up our packs.  We took it in stride and had a very polite, friendly interchange with the soldiers. 

By the way, the reason for all the roadblocks was that we were driving not far from the South African border. The Botswana government is concerned about South African commando raids to go after ANC guerrilla fighters who are alleged to be hiding out in Botswana.  It’s happened before and the government wants to send a message to both the South Africans and their own people that they are being diligent in protecting the border.    

Karen feels you meet far more interesting Americans and Europeans living abroad because they are a pre-selected group of adventurers who aren’t caught up in pettiness.  I don’t totally agree with her as I met some ex-pats here who are boring jerks.  By the way, Karen met her British husband Peter when she was in the Peace Corps in Fiji.  I doubt they’ll move back to small town Montana in the near future.


Moselesele Safari Park south of Gaborone

Neither will a couple of 50ish American women I met on a bird walk last month.  One of them works for the U.S. Embassy here and has lived in several African countries.  I was drooling over her living experiences in exotic venues like Dakar, Senegal.  “But don’t you ever get homesick for the States? I queried.  “Don’t you ever want to go back to visit, at least?”  “Oh, I enjoy going back to the States,” answered the other woman.  “…for a day or two. But then what?”

But then what indeed?  I’ve lived in the U.S. for 40 years.  Why shouldn’t I experience the rest of the world for the next 40?  I may burn out after a few more months here and want to go back home, but then what?  Frankly I’m a little bitter.  I have six years of college and some fifteen years of valuable work experience, but who back in the States is going to hire a free-spirited, non-conformist like me?  And how long would I last in the corporate environment? – been there, done that bullshit.  I find the prospect of an American yuppie existence unappealing and the prospect of living like a poor hippie even less appealing.  Now maybe if I had lots of money and was part of the Aspen jet set…naa, that trip would probably get boring too after a few months or I would OD on cocaine.       

 

     

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