Time Flies

Time Flies.....

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I flew into Boston from Kenya on September 11, 1992. It was my first time here in 16 years and I spent my first few dollars($19.40 to be exact) to pay the taxi driver who transported me to the YMCA. A twenty minute journey became nearly an hour because of the traffic. Everything was stagnant except of course, the meter in the taxi. It was then I became one of the many victims of Boston taxis. Where I come from, taxi fares are negotiated prior to the journey and even if you get stuck in traffic for 2 hours, you still pay the same agreed price. I had come to Boston five days earlier so that I could have a good look at my new environment before OASIS(Orientation Assistance for International Students) began. I spent my first few days admiring the university buildings, knowing their names, walking down to Copley and do a little shopping.

One of the first important things I did was to try and call my parents in Kenya to let them know that I had arrived safely. I tried calling collect (I am sure many students prefer doing that) but unfortunately that did not work because Kenya does not accept collect calls from the United States. I was almost frustrated but thanks to David Enderlin of the International Student Office, I was able to find a solution to it and was able to call my parents. The OASIS program aimed at introducing international students to the United States and to the university was in my opinion, a success. The ISO staff did everything possible to see that we had a smooth transition into school. We also had different activities arranged for us like rides on the T (it was helpful for me since I could not tell the difference between the inbound and the outbound trains), we went to some restaurants, there was a harbor cruise and various other activities which I very much enjoyed. I take this opportunity to say "Thumbs Up" to the staff at the ISO office and the people who volunteered to help us around. I hope to serve as a volunteer for the next OASIS program.

In trying to buy things I needed for school, I was dazzled in every store I went to. Everything seemed extremely expensive to me and I am sure this happens to every new international student because of what I would call the "currency conversion factor." On one occasion, I walked into CVS and tried to buy a notebook which cost $1.99. On converting this to Kenyan shillings, I discovered that this amount could buy about 30 notebooks of the same size in Kenya. Initially, this problem prevented me from buying a lot of things but I stopped doing any conversions and I got on with life. Coming to the United States was like a red carpet welcome to the world of taxes. I could not fathom why I had to pay tax on such trivial items as sweets and cookies. I never had to pay taxes on every little purchase even though I know that every government charge some sort of hidden tax, but let no one tell me that I am not in Kenya.

Our first few weeks after orientation was one of mixed emotions. Everyone seemed to be trying to cope, dealing with different cultures at the same time. People were trying to make friends, some that would last for years and some that would not stand the test of time. Since then, many friendships have been made and broken. I can not say for sure how many large pizzas with multiple toppings we ordered, but most of us lavished our husky accounts on Domino's, most at time at 1 a.m in the morning. False fire alarms including the real one when a fire broke out in Speare hall last week, have been driving me nuts all year! Going down to Jordan Marsh, Sears and Filene's basement was an adventure, there was a lot to buy but I also had budget constraint. Somebody once defined a budget as "a plan for going broke methodically." He could not have defined it better. There were many departmental meetings held, I met my very helpful advisor (even though having an academic advisor was a new phenomenon to me) and as soon as I selected my courses, classes started in earnest. My first class, an introduction to logic class, was a stunner. The philosophy professor was very brash and he gave us his draconian philosophies of work. He lectured us about how not to bug his life and he surely started my classroom experience in Northeastern on a wrong footing.

Being an African, I was asked and I am still being asked a variety of questions concerning culture, language and living styles, which a Jamaican friend of my mine, David Riley, has termed "American questions", if you get his drift. You get questions like "how did you learn how to speak English?","Do you live on treetops on in huts back home?", "How did you get to the U.S.?" You know, some people do really think we Africans swing on trees and then swim, from Africa till we get to "God's own country", while someone actually asked me if I swam or biked the whole way. Listening to this, I envisioned U.S. customs officials on different trees on all the routes to the United States and could not help thinking how a lot of us need to be correctly informed. To the question about living in huts or the jungle, I will just make two comments, one, our countries all have modern cities and rural areas just like the U.S. and two, I want you for a moment to imagine that you live in another country and that all you are shown on television about the U.S. are news or documentaries of people living in the Nevada desert (hopefully, you will know where this is), a few rugged houses and tents here and there. I am sure you get the picture.

One point I will like to make clear is though I am one African country, it does not mean that I know your friend who's from Zimbabwe or from any other African country. A lot of people I have talked to seem to think that Africa is one big playground where everyone knows each other. I bet you do not know my friend who lives in Alaska. My friends, Africa is a continent with about 52 countries, with borders! You need a passport to travel from one African country to another just like you would need one to travel to Mexico. I have come to realize that it is probably no fault of yours, but that of the media. In my 9 months here, the only times anything African was shown on television was when U.S. troops went to Somalia and when NBC featured a one week long documentary on Zimbabwe.

I have learnt quite a lot, and after nearly a year of teaching "African Studies" without pay, I will carry the memories of this first year and will surely have a lot to tell my parents who I have not seen in a long while. I now look forward to the summer break, as time flies.