Shanah tovah!

Happy New Year to all my Jewish friends out there! I know it’s been a while since I last posted, but honestly, not all that much new has happened in the last week.

I went to Rosh Hashanah services at a local resident’s house, and that was quite lovely. Very low-key, and the food was delicious. I’ve included a picture below.

Another interesting update: as it turns out, I did not successfully join the U.B. Weightlifting Team, a club team that meets twice a week to practice. Instead, I currently belong to the Botswana National Weightlifting Team. So here I am, a tiny foreign girl lifting 25 kgs, and I’m representing the nation of Botswana in weightlifting. The situation would be pretty hilarious, if I weren’t so terrified for my first competition after the break.

Tomorrow, I’m heading to Cape Town in South Africa, the second African country I will have visited. I’ll be spending a week there for the mid-semester break. I can’t wait to explore the city, and I promise to record any and all exciting adventures! Until then, sala sentle!

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P.S. Just as a note—I know I haven’t discussed racial issues much, despite being a racial minority for the first time in my life. Recently, people have been asking me if I understand now what it’s like to be a Black American. The truth is, being a white person in Botswana is not at all the same as being Black in America. Even as a minority, I’m still intensely privileged. As a general example, my sociology class has discussed unfair hiring practices in Botswana, which often hire under-qualified white people over qualified Black ones. On a more personal level, I can get into any club I want, whenever. No matter how exclusive a place is, I have a guaranteed all-access pass thanks to the color of my skin. I don’t ever have to be worried about being thrown out, either: a member of my group recently stripped down and jumped into the (closed) pool at a club. While the bouncer did tell her to put her clothes back on, we weren’t kicked out or even forcibly reprimanded. I’m certain that this was because everyone standing by the pool was white.

Because of the color of my skin, people notice me wherever I go. They call me “lekgoa” (“English person”), and they ask me for money. I know I am more likely to be pickpocketed than the average Motswana. On the other hand, “lekgoa” does not have anywhere near as negative a connotation as the n-word in America. I don’t have to be worried about being arrested for my race, and discrimination tends to run in my favor. So no, I don’t understand what it’s like to be Black in America. I do understand what it’s like to stand out, but as one of the only Jews in a majority Catholic town, I’ve been exposed to the feeling before. Hope that clarifies things --Amanda