African Time

Bhekani Buthelezi and Suzi on the beach in Durban  that's the Indian Ocean behind us. 

Livin' on African time - I'm humming the tune to "Tulsa Time" in my mind as I write the phrase.  You might have heard it used in many contexts, such as when your event in Africa is scheduled to start at 4:00 p.m. and at 5:30 p.m. the people begin to take their places.  Or, maybe you go to a wedding that is supposed to happen  at noon and the groom and his groomsmen arrive around 2:00 p.m.  To westerners, African time can seem like a terrible insult - after all, you are told to be some place at a certain time, but nothing is happening at that certain time when you arrive. In fact, one is sometimes not very welcome at the appointed hour at all.   On the other hand, I sometimes see a miracle occur during African time.

The way I see it, the time needed to get used to an idea is African time.  The time needed to to make a good decision is African time.  And, the time spent learning the value of patience is also African time.  I went to Durban to meet some world-famous musicians, and I arrived early in morning, as I was told to do.  Sometime later that afternoon, I experienced the first conversation with someone connected to the musicians, and was somewhat distraught that I had misunderstood my instructions to be there early in the morning.  In fact, I was embarrassed at what appeared to my African colleagues as "barging in on them" - nearly four hours after I thought I was supposed to show up. By midnight, I was pretty sure that I was lucky to have been allowed to observe the music at all, and sat as near to a wall and in a dim area as possible to avoid bringing attention to myself.  But by 2:00 a.m. someone came over to me to see if I was warm enough or needed some coffee to drink.  She even gave me her phone number.  That someone took some time to think about who I was and why I was there.  While all this was happening, a friend and very busy colleague  - Mr. Bhekani Buthelezi - had stuck by my side the entire time (well OK, there was that one time when he went running into the crowd of political ralliers with my video camera to get some footage for me--as I was too chicken to do it myself).  All that time that might have been considered an insult --just waiting and waiting, but all that time there was another person waiting right beside me, explaining, interpreting, reassuring, and never complaining about the late hour or the long wait.  In fact, Bhekani tried to get me to stay even longer than I could manage, as the early morning hours began to change this long day into the next.

My advisors in Zululand go to great lengths to arrange introductions for me, so that people will "know" me.  It all seemed so ceremonial and unnecessary in the beginning, and I even felt I was wasting their time, because this practice requires some patience, no matter how it is carried out.  One waits until a more important person can become available to see you - even if you have scheduled an appointment.  Sometimes, business cannot be conducted until or unless one is known.  One waits to be fetched  - to use a local term - before saying goodbye at the end of a faculty meeting or school function.  One does not go willy nilly plundering around seeing oneself out, because one is in a hurry...at least before one is known.

Here's Elene Cloete --  she never waits for the clock to do anything!

I think I'm quite well known in some corridors and in some circles and still quite an odd and unsettling image in others.  I don't think I'll ever be completely correct with all the protocol and being known and observing African time with gusto, but I do think I might become a better person if I learn the patience required to live with African time.